MANUAL 

OF 


ARNOLD 
V 


* 


T 

UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFOB 
AT  LOS  ANGELES 


GIFT   OF   CAPT.   AND    MRS. 
PAUL  MCBRIDE  PERIGORD 


UNIVERSITY  of  CALlFUKfti* 
AT 

U)S  ANGELES 
LIBRARY 


MANUAL  OF 
COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


BY 

JOHN  HAYS  GARDINER 

Assistant  Professor  of  English  in  Harvard  University 

GEORGE  LYMAN  KITTREDGE 

Professor  of  English  in  Harvard  University 

AND 

SARAH  LOUISE  ARNOLD 

Dean  of  Simmons  College,  formerly  Supervisor  of 
Schools  in  Boston 


*         »     r- 


GINN  &  COMPANY 

BOSTON  •  NEW  YORK  •   CHICAGO  •  LONDON 


136457 


Copyright,  1907,  by 
J.  H.  Gardiner,  G.  L.  Kittredge,  and  S.  L.  Arnold 


ALL  RIGHTS   RESERVED 
79.1 


gfre   gtfttngum   grtflg 

GINN    &   COMPANY-  PRO- 
PRIETORS •  BOSTON  •  U.S.A 


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■? 

X 


PREFACE 


The  present  volume  has  been  prepared  to  meet  the  needs  of 
those  teachers  and  students  who  require  a  manual  of  Composition 
and  Rhetoric  somewhat  fuller,  and  rather  more  advanced,  than 
the  same  authors'  "Elements  of  English  Composition."  Much 
of  the  matter  in  the  two  books  is  the  same,  but  the  "  Manual  " 
differs  from  the  "  Elements  "  in  arrangement,1  and  it  takes  up 
the  several  subjects  in  greater  detail  and  carries  them  farther. 
It  also  contains  a  large  quantity  of  new  material. 

Part  I  is  devoted  to  the  Forms  of  Discourse,  —  Narration, 
Description,  Exposition  (or  Explanation),  and  Argument,  with 
a  special  chapter  on  the  Drama.  It  presents  these  subjects  in 
their  natural  order  ;  indicates  their  relations  to  each  other,  as 
well  as  to  literature  in  general  and  to  the  experience  of  the  stu- 
dent ;  and  illustrates  them  by  means  of  carefully  selected  extracts 
from  a  great  variety  of  writers,  both  English  and  American.2 
The  student  is  led  to  see  that  the  methods  which  he  tries  to  follow 
in  his  own  composition  are,  and  must  be,  identical  in  kiurf  with 
the  methods  by  which  distinguished  writers  have  produced  those 
effects  which  please  or  impress  him  in  his  reading.  Thus  the 
study  of  literature  is  brought  to  the  assistance  of  practice  in  com- 
position without  being  improperly  subordinated  to  it,  and  prac- 

•  Sf      tice  in  composition  is  made  really  serviceable  in  the  development 
>-*  .     . 

$>        of  literary  appreciation. 

Exposition  is  treated  with  a  fulness  proportionate  to  its  impor- 
tance in  everyday  life.  Expository  description  is  carefully  dis- 
tinguished from  pure  or  "literary"  description,  —  that  is,  from 
description  that  aims  to  reproduce  the  writer's  impressions  of 

4J  i  In  particular,  all  the  Exercises  have  been  put  after  the  several  c-haptors 

(see  pp.  78  II.,  134  it.,  200  ff.,  200  ff.,  :m  ff.,  341  ff.,  413  IT.,  421  IT.). 
2  See  "  Selections  "  in  the  Index. 

iii 


o3 


IV  PREFACE 

the  scene  or  the  object.  Particular  attention  is  given  to  Arrange- 
ment of  Material,  and  there  are  plain  directions  for  collecting 
and  sifting  material  and  drawing  up  outlines. 

Argument,  in  response  to  requests  from  many  teachers,  has 
also  been  treated  with  considerable  fulness.  In  order  that  the 
making  of  Briefs  may  not  seem  an  end  in  itself,  —  as  if  it  were 
a  mere  trick  of  ingenuity  in  tabulation,  —  the  connection  between 
the  Brief  and  the  necessary  logical  structure  of  the  argument  is 
dwelt  on  and  exemplified.  Five  Specimen  Briefs  are  appended  to 
the  chapter,  along  with  a  body  of  exercises  which  make  practical 
application  of  the  principles  discussed.  How  much  of  this  chapter 
shall  be  utilized  by  any  particular  class  of  students,  will  of  course 
depend  on  their  stage  of  advancement  and  their  special  needs. 
In  a  subject  like  argument,  fulness  of  treatment  ensures  pro- 
portion, and,  by  clearing  up  the  difficulties,  really  works  toward 
simplicity. 

A  short  chapter  on  the  Drama  will  be  found  at  the  end  of 
Part  I.  Experience  proves  that  students,  though  they  are  required 
to  read  a  good  deal  of  Shakspere,  often  fail  to  discriminate  be- 
tween narrative  method  and  dramatic  method.  The  importance 
of  the  distinction,  and  the  confusion  which  failure  to  recognize 
it  works  in  the  study  of  literature,  will,  it  is  believed,  justify 
the  inclusion  of  this  chapter,  though  the  subject  is  not  usually 
treated  in  text-books  of  composition.  Other  portions  of  the 
book  which  are  closely  connected  with  the  study  of  literature, 
as  well  as  with  composition,  are,  for  example,  the  sections  on 
Literary  Criticism,  the  Uses  of  Incident,  Complication  of  Plot, 
and  the  Narrative  in  Literature. 

Part  II  takes  up  the  Paragraph,  the  Sentence,  and  the  Choice 
of  Words.  These  subjects  have  been  incidentally  referred  to,  as 
occasion  required,  in  Part  I ;  for  it  is  assumed  that  the  student 
will  not  come  to  a  manual  of  this  kind  without  some  training  in 
the  rudiments.  In  Part  II,  however,  they  are  systematically  dis- 
cussed in  their  relations  to  the  art  of  composition.  Part  II  is, 
in  effect,  a  treatise  on  rhetorical  technique.  The  discussion,  how- 
ever, is  not  formal,  but  practical,  and  the  doctrines  are  set  forth 


PREFACE  V 

in  their  relation  to  literature  as  such,  and  to  the  everyday  experi- 
ences of  the  student.  The  difficult  subject  of  Transition  is  dis- 
cussed with  a  fulness  of  illustration  which  it  is  hoped  may  render 
it  less  puzzling  than  students  commonly  find  it.  Mention  may 
also  be  made  of  the  summary  of  Forms  of  the  Paragraph,  which 
is  meant  for  reference,  to  the  definition  and  explanation  of  the 
Standard  of  Usage,  and  to  the  sections  on  Figures  of  Speech. 

Particular  attention  is  invited  to  the  treatment  of  Improprie- 
ties in  Language.  It  is  a  common  practice  of  writers  on  rhetoric 
to  set  forth  these  faults  in  a  long  list,  thus  introducing  the 
student  to  a  multitude  of  errors  which  he  might  otherwise  have 
been  under  no  temptation  to  commit.  The  unwisdom  of  this  plan 
is  clear  enough  and  has  been  demonstrated  over  and  over  again  by 
experience.  The  authors  of  the  present  book  have  therefore  fol- 
lowed a  different  method.  The  standard  of  usage  is  defined,  and 
the  four  main  principles  of  choice  (correctness,  precision,  appro- 
priateness, and  expressiveness)  are  fully  explained  and  illustrated  ; 
but  the  correction  of  specific  improprieties  is  left  to  the  teacher, 
who  will,  of  course,  note  these  faults  when  they  occur  in  the 
student's  writing  or  conversation,  and  thus  adapt  his  instruction  to 
the  actual  needs  of  the  individual.  In  the  Supplementary  Exer- 
cises, however,  a  number  of  the  commonest  improprieties  are 
discussed,  and  to  these  is  added  an  unusually  full  list  of  words 
that  are  often  loosely  or  incorrectly  employed  (see  pp.  440-442). 
This  list  will  help  the  teacher  in  his  criticism  of  the  students' 
essays,  and  will  also  afford  material  for  a  great  variety  of  lessons 
in  verbal  discrimination.  Its  judicious  use  will  accomplish  far 
more  than  can  be  effected  by  a  study  of  the  conventional  cata- 
logues of  improprieties,  and  will  not  corrupt  the  pupil's  English 
in  the  attempt  to  purify  it. 

For  convenience,  a  list  of  solecisms  has  been  included  in  the 
Appendix  (pp.  443-450).  Here,  too,  care  has  been  taken  to  avoid, 
so  far  as  possible,  the  actual  printing  of  bad  English. 

The  Summary  of  Phrases  and  Clauses  (pp.  451-458)  is  for 
rcfcri'iic-t:  in  connection  with  bhe  Btudy  of  sentences,  as  well  as 
for  purposes  of  grammatical  review. 


vi  PREFACE 

The  exercises,  both  analytic  and  constructive,  are  numerous 
and  varied.  In  conformity  with  the  plan  of  the  book,  they  aim 
to  bring  the  practice  of  composition  into  its  proper  relation  both 
to  the  pupil's  experience  and  everyday  interests  and  to  his  study 
of  good  literature. 

The  authors  are  indebted  to  Professor  W.  M.  Davis  for  per- 
mission to  print  an  extract  from  his  "  Physical  Geography  "  ;  to 
The  Macmillan  Company  for  permission  to  print  a  chapter  from 
Sir  John  Lubbock's  "Beauties  of  Nature";  to  Messrs.  Charles 
Scribner's  Sons  for  allowing  the  use  of  several  passages  from 
Stevenson  (including  an  extract  from  "  Ebb  Tide  ")  and  of  one 
from  Dr.  Van  Dyke  ;  to  Messrs.  Longmans,  Green  &  Company 
for  an  extract  from  Mr.  Weyman ;  to  the  Century  Company  for 
Mr.  Eiis's  anecdote  of  John  Binns  ;  to  the  Lothrop,  Lee,  & 
Shepard  Company  for  extracts  from  stories  by  Miss  Wilkins  ;  to 
Messrs.  D.  Appleton  &  Company  for  an  extract  from  Mr.  F.  T. 
Bullen ;  to  Mr.  Joseph  C.  Lincoln  for  an  extract  from  his 
"  Cap'n  Eri  "  ;  to  Professor  W.  T.  Sedgwick  for  an  extract  from 
"The  Human  Mechanism";  and  to  Dr.  W.  J.  Long  for  an 
extract  from  "  The  School  of  the  Woods."  Extracts  from  Haw- 
thorne and  Mr.  John  Burroughs  are  used  by  permission  of  Messrs. 
Houghton,  Mifflin  &  Company,  publishers  of  the  works  of  those 
authors.  Extracts  from  "  Putnam's  Edition  of  Irving  "  are  used  by 
permission  of  Messrs.  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons,  Irving's  authorized 
publishers.  Particular  acknowledgment  is  due  to  Professor  W.  F. 
M.  Goss,  of  Purdue  University,  who  has  not  only  allowed  the 
authors  to  reprint  a  chapter  from  his  recent  treatise  on  "  Loco- 
motive Sparks  "  (New  York,  John  Wiley  &  Sons),  but  has  given 
them  liberty  to  adapt  it  to  their  purpose  by  a  slight  simplification 
of  technicalities.  The  story  of  "  Rumpelstiltskin  "  is  taken  from 
the  excellent  translation  of  Grimm  by  Margaret  Hunt  (London, 
George  Bell  &  Sons). 

In  conclusion,  the  authors  wish  to  express  their  indebtedness 
to  several  experienced  teachers  for  valuable  suggestions,  and,  in 
particular,  their  gratitude  to  Professor  Frank  Edgar  Farley,  of 
Simmons  College,  for  scholarly  help  of  every  kind,  especially  in 
the  chapter  on  Argument. 


CONTENTS 

PART  I.    THE  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE 

CHAPTER  I.    COMPOSITION  IN  GENERAL 

Page 

Two  Kinds  of  Composition 3 

The  Four  Forms  of  Discourse 5 

Clearness  of  Thought 6 

Adaptation  to  the  Reader 9 

CHAPTER  II.    NARRATION 

Specimens  of  Narration 11 

Narratives  and  Stories 29 

Action  in  Narration 32 

Coherence  and  Arrangement 35 

The  Point  of  a  Story        36 

Selection  of  Material       39 

The  Introduction  in  Narration 42 

The  Conclusion  in  Narration .  40 

The  Point  of  View  in  Narration 49 

Setting  or  Background 52 

Characterization  in  Stories 56 

Conversation  in  Narration 59 

Material  for  Stories 63 

The  Uses  of  Incidenl  in  Narration 66 

Complication  of  Plot        68 

The  Narrative  in  Literature 73 

Exercises  in  Narration 78 

vii 


viii  CONTENTS 


CHAPTER  IIL    DESCRIPTION 

Page 

Specimens  of  Description 89 

Description  and  Exposition 96 

Pictures  and  Descriptions 97 

Action  in  Description 100 

Sensations  in  Description 102 

The  Beginning  of  a  Description 106 

Description  of  a  Place 107 

The  Point  of  View  in  Description 108 

Time  in  Description 112 

Description  of  Persons 115 

Character  in  Description 118 

Comparison  in  Description 120 

Contrast  in  Description 122 

A  Description  is  not  an  Inventory 124 

The  Central  Point  in  a  Description 126 

Vocabulary  in  Description 129 

References  for  Description 132 

Exercises  in  Description 137 


CHAPTER  IV.  EXPOSITION 

Specimens  of  Exposition 145 

Importance  of  Exposition 158 

Essentials  of  Exposition        159 

Arrangement  in  Exposition 163 

The  Outline  of  an  Exposition 165 

The  Key-Sentence       170 

The  Introduction  in  Exposition 172 

The  Conclusion  in  Exposition 174 

Transition  in  Exposition 177 

Coherence  in  Exposition       179 

Examples  in  Exposition 180 

Comparison  and  Contrast  in  Exposition 182 

The  Use  of  Diagrams 185 

Exposition  in  Written  Tests 186 

Abstracts 187 


CONTENTS  ix 

Page 

Exposition  of  Character 188 

Summary  of  Principles ,     .  191 

Literary  Criticism       193 

Types  of  Criticism 197 

Exercises  in  Exposition 200 

CHAPTER  V.     ARGUMENT 

Argument  and  Exposition 211 

The  Parts  of  an  Argument 212 

The  Brief  of  an  Argument 216 

The  Introduction  in  Argument 218 

The  Body  of  an  Argument 223 

Three  Kinds  of  Argument 225 

Arguments  of  Fact 227 

Arguments  of  Theory  or  Principle 231 

Arguments  of  Policy 233 

Refutation 237 

Persuasion 241 

Debates 243 

Specimen  Briefs 249 

Exercises  in  Argument 260 

CHAPTER  VI.     DRAMA 

Characteristics  of  Dramatic  Method 267 

PART   II.    PARAGRAPHS,  SENTENCES,   WORDS 
CHAPTER  I.     PARAGRAPHS 

The  Paragraph  in  General 277 

Unity  of  the  Paragraph        278 

Use  of  the  Topic  Sentence 282 

Beginning  of  the  Paragraph 283 

Close  of  the  Paragraph 284 

Transition  and  Coherence 285 

Transition  within  the  Paragraph 293 


x  CONTENTS 

Page 

Emphasis  in  the  Paragraph 296 

Forms  of  the  Paragraph 297 

Exercises  in  Paragraphs 308 


CHAPTER   II.    SENTENCES 

The  Structure  of  Sentences 311 

Unity  of  the  Sentence 311 

The  Principle  of  Variety 313 

Kinds  of  Sentences .  316 

Simple  Sentences        316 

Compound  Sentences 319 

Abuse  of  Compound  Sentences 319 

Complex  Sentences 321 

Periodic  and  Loose  Sentences 323 

Emphasis  in  Sentences 326 

Antithesis 330 

Balanced  Sentences 332 

Climax 334 

Parallel  Structure       336 

Rhetorical  Questions       338 

Punctuation 340 

Exercises  in  Sentences 341 


CHAPTER  III.    WORDS 

Choice  of  Words 345 

The  Standard  of  Usage 346 

Modern  Usage 347 

Words  not  in  Good  Use 349 

Poetical  Language 349 

Foreign  Words        351 

Colloquial  Language  and  Slang 352 

General  Principles  of  Choice 354 

Correctness 356 

Technical  Terms 358 

Precision 359 

Aids  to  Precision 361 

Appropriateness 363 


CONTENTS  xi 

Page 

Special  Questions  of  Appropriateness :!';,i 

Expressiveness • ,( '  ■ 

General  and  Specific  Words     ............  369 

Figures  of  Speech 370 

Similes  and  Metaphors 372 

Personification 370 

Apostrophe 378 

Allegory • 378 

Use  and  Abuse  of  Figures 380 

Synonyms  and  Antonyms 382 

Conciseness 384 

Repetition 380 

Means  of  Enlarging  One's  Vocabulary        389 

Clearness 3J0 

Illustrative  Selections 391 


LETTER-WRITING 

Introductory 401 

The  Parts  of  a  Letter .     .  402 

Business  Letters 405 

Friendly  Letters 407 

Specimens  of  Letter-Writing 408 

Exercises  in  Letter- Writing 413 

Business  Transactions 414 

Invitations  and  Replies 418 

Supplementary  Exercises •     •  421 


APPENDIX 

(  ■(iimnon  Errors  in  Composition .443 

Phrases  and  Clauses •    •  ,-'1 

Rules  for  Capital  Letters 459 

Rules  of  Punctuation 460 

Business  Forms ,,',' 

Prosody 469 

Im.kx 487 


Paet  I 

THE   FORMS   OF  DISCOURSE 


Pakt  I 

THE  FOKMS   OF  DISCOUKSE 

CHAPTER  I 

COMPOSITION  IN  GENERAL 
TWO  KINDS  OF  COMPOSITION 

The  study  of  composition  is  useful  both  for  practical 
purposes,  as  a  means  of  learning  to  write,  and  for  the 
help  which  it  gives  in  understanding  and  appreciating 
literature.  The  reason  for  this  twofold  advantage  is 
plain.  Rhetoric,  or  the  art  of  writing,  is  not  governed  by 
arbitrary  laws.  Its  rules  are  not  statutes  passed  long  ago 
by  some  assembly  of  critical  scholars ;  they  are  merely 
common-sense  principles  derived  from  the  observed  prac- 
tice of  persons  who  have  succeeded  in  writing  well, — 
that  is,  from  the  methods  of  good  authors.  Hence,  when 
we  study  composition,  we  investigate  these  methods,  in 
order  to  apply  them  in  our  own  writing.  Such  study 
naturally  makes  us  understand  the  authors  better,  and 
better  understanding  heightens  our  appreciation. 

In  studying  composition,  therefore,  we  must  keep  both 
objects  in  view.  We  must  aim  to  arrive  at  rules  or  prac- 
tical directions  for  our  own  guidance,  and  we  must  ana- 
lyze, to  some  extent,  the  means  employed  by  great 
authors  in  achieving  results  which  are  beyond  our  powers. 

S 


4  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

A  student  is  not  expected  to  write  sonnets  like  Milton's 
and  Wordsworth's,  or  short  stories  like  "  The  Fall  of  the 
House  of  Usher,"  or  romances  like  "  The  House  of  the 
Seven  Gables  " ;  but  this  should  not  deter  him  from  try- 
ing to  discover  the  qualities  which  make  such  works 
admirable.  "  It  is  not  everybody,"  says  an  eminent  critic, 
"  who  can  command  the  mighty  rhythm  of  the  greatest 
masters  of  human  speech.  But  every  one  can  make 
reasonably  sure  that  he  knows  what  he  means,  and 
whether  he  has  found  the  right  word." 

Most  of  the  writing  that  we  have  to  do  falls  into 
two  classes,  of  which  two  kinds  of  letters  are  the  com- 
monest types. 

In  a  business  letter  our  purpose  is  to  give  information, 
to  explain  a  subject  with  which  we  are  familiar  to  some 
one  who  does  not  understand  it,  or  to  express  our  opinion 
on  some  practical  matter.  Such  a  letter  may  be  quite 
impersonal.    Its  essential  quality  is  clearness. 

In  a  familiar  letter,  on  the  other  hand,  we  are  concerned 
with  our  own  thoughts,  feelings,  and  experiences.  Our 
object  is  not  primarily  to  give  information,  but  rather  to 
make  our  subject  as  interesting  to  our  correspondent  as 
it  is  to  us.  Such  a  letter  is  personal  and  individual.  Its 
essential  qualities  are  vividness  and  interest. 

To  be  sure,  many  business  letters  are  personal,  and  a 
familiar  letter  may  of  course  concern  a  matter  of  business. 
No  sharp  distinction  can  be  made  between  the  two  kinds 
of  correspondence.  The  general  difference,  however,  is 
as  here  set  forth,  and  nothing  more  is  necessary  for  our 
present  purpose,  which  is  illustrative  merely. 

These  two  classes  of  letters,  then,  are  examples  of  the 
two  kinds  of  writing  which  everybody  has  to  do,  sooner  or 
later.    In  the  first  kind,  we  should  ask  ourselves,  "  Have 


THE  FOUR  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE  5 

I  explained  all  the  facts  clearly  ? "  In  the  second,  "  Have 
I  interested  my  reader  in  what  interests  me?"  Under 
the  first  head  come  such  pieces  of  composition  as  written 
"  tests  "  at  school,  and  all  those  essays  or  reports  in  which 
the  main  object  is  to  inform  the  reader.  Under  the 
second  head  comes  every  piece  of  composition  in  which 
we  aim  chiefly  at  interesting  others  in  our  own  feelings 
or  experiences,  as  in  stories  or  in  descriptions  of  places  or 
persons.  In  literature,  the  first  class  would  include  scien- 
tific works,  many  essays  on  instructive  topics,  speeches 
on  matters  of  fact  (as  in  debates),  and  all  books  which 
set  forth  general  principles  for  the  conduct  of  life  or 
for  the  understanding  of  the  universe.  In  the  second 
class  belong  stories,  literary  descriptions,  all  poetry  that 
appeals  to  the  imagination,  and  what  we  call  "lighter 
literature." 

This  distinction  between  the  two  general  classes  of 
writing  is  of  some  importance.  Before  we  write  anything, 
we  should  think  whether  our  chief  aim  is  to  make  some 
fact  clear  or  to  arouse  interest,  and  we  should  arrange  and 
handle  our  material  according  to  this  main  purpose.'  Yet 
we  should  not  infer  that  every  composition  is  confined  to 
one  .or  the  other  class ;  in  many  cases  the  purposes  may 
be  combined.  In  particular,  we  should  remember  that  to 
be  instructive  one  is  not  obliged  to  be  dull. 


THE  FOUR  FORMS  OF  DISCOURSE 

Thus  all  literature  may  be  roughly  but  conveniently 
divided  into  two  great  classes,  according  as  its  main  object 
is  (1)  to  instruct  the  reader  or  (2)  to  interest  him.  This 
is  a  classification  with  respect  to  the  purpose  of  the  author. 
Literature,  however,  may  also  be  classified  in  another  way, 


6  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

—  with  respect  to  the  different  forms  of  composition  which 
it  includes.  These  are  four  in  number,  —  narration,  descrip- 
tion, exposition  (or  explanation),1  and  argument.  They  are 
known  as  the  four  forms  of  discourse. 

We  shall  discover,  as  we  proceed,  that  the  four  forms 
of  discourse  are  not  entirely  distinct  from  each  other. 
Narration  and  description,  for  example,  are  frequently 
combined,  and  most  arguments  contain  a  good  deal  of 
explanatory  (or  expository)  matter.  Yet,  on  the  whole, 
there  is  little  difficulty  in  referring  any  given  piece  of 
writing  to  the  class  to  which  it  most  appropriately  belongs. 
Accordingly,  we  shall  find  it  profitable  to  take  up  each 
form  of  discourse  by  itself,  in  order  to  ascertain  the  prin- 
ciples and  methods  that  should  guide  us  in  the  practical 
work  of  composition  and  to  grasp  them  firmly. 

At  the  outset,  however,  we  must  consider  two  points 
which  are  of  primary  importance  in  every  kind  of  compo- 
sition, —  clearness  of  thought  and  adaptation  to  the  reader. 

CLEARNESS  OF  THOUGHT 

Before  beginning  any  piece  of  composition,  you  should 
know  exactly  what  you  wish  to  say.  Something  has  been 
gained  when  you  have  fouud  a  good  title.  If  the  title  is 
vague  or  obscure,  the  chances  are  that  your  thoughts  are 
not  clear  and  well-defined.  Besides,  since  the  title  intro- 
duces your  subject  to  the  reader,  it  should  express  your 
theme  plainly,  and  should  be  so  phrased  as  to  attract  his 
attention  and  arouse  his  interest.  Great  authors  some- 
times give  their  books  titles  that  hint  at  the  subject  in  a 


i 


i  Exposition  and  explanation  are  almost  exactly  synonymous.  Though 
the  former  is  generally  used  in  works  on  rhetoric,  it  has  no  substantial 
difference  in  meaning  from  the  latter. 


CLEARNESS  OF  THOUGHT  7 

riddling  fashion  (as  in  Buskin's  "  Sesame  and  Lilies "). 
Young  writers,  however,  will  do  well  to  speak  plainly. 
A  subject  may  be  stated  in  general  or  in  specific  terms. 
Thus,  one  may  write  about  "War,"  or  "The  Battle  of 
Bannockburn."  The  first  is  a  general,  the  second  a  spe- 
cific subject.  Unless  your  knowledge  and  experience  fit  you 
to  discuss  the  larger  theme,  it  would  be  more  modest  and 
more  sensible  to  limit  the  field  and  announce  the  specific 
subject.  "Plays  and  Games"  may  serve  as  a  title  for 
an  essay  by  a  writer  who  has  long  been  interested  in 
athletics  and  who  has  a  broad  view  of  the  principles 
involved  and  the  various  applications  of  those  principles. 
"  What  I  Know  about  Tennis  "  would  state  more  clearly 
your  own  experience,  and  would  have  the  value  of  a  frank 
personal  contribution.  Your  composition  may  be  even 
more  interesting  than  that  of  a  famous  athlete.  At  all 
events,  to  state  the  subject  of  your  essay  appropriately 
and  honestly  will  enlist  the  interest  and  sympathy  of 
your  readers. 

Further,  a  concrete,  specific  subject  is  in  itself  more 
interesting  to  the  ordinary  reader.  "  A  Scotch  Collie  "  is 
a  better  subject  for  a  boy's  composition  than  "  The  Intel- 
ligence of  Dumb  Animals."  The  boy  may  clearly  and 
fully  discuss  the  one,  while  he  would  hardly  do  justice 
to  the  other.  More  than  this,  the  reader  will  be  inter- 
ested in  the  particular  dog  from  the  start,  while  state- 
ments about  dumb  animals  in  general  may  seem  vague  and 
pointless,  and  may  therefore  fail  to  arouse  his  interest. 

Whenever  we  look  at  the  volumes  in  a  bookseller's 
window,  or  consult  a  library  catalogue,  some  titles  pique 
our  curiosity  at  once.  Our  own  experience,  then,  teaches 
us  the  value  of  a  well-chosen  title.  If  we  compare  the 
titles  in  the  following  list,  we  shall  find  no  difficulty  in 


8  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

deciding,  in  each  case,  which  of  the  two  sounds  more 
interesting,  and  also  which  of  them  is  more  likely  to  be 
treated  clearly  and  definitely  by  a  young  writer. 

1.  Foreign  Travel.  5.  Experiments  in  Cookery. 
Afoot  in  Scotland.  My  First  Loaf  of  Bread. 

2.  My  Likes  and  Dislikes.  6.  A  Pleasant  Summer. 

My  Pet  Aversion.  My  Vacation  at  Bear  Camp. 

3.  Peace.  7.  A  Thrilling  Rescue. 

The  Hague  Tribunal.  How  Dick  Saved  the  Train. 

4.  Statesmanship.  8.  Literature. 

The  Life  of  Washington.  My  Favorite  Story. 

Nobody  would  maintain,  of  course,  that  the  more  specific 
titles  are  better  in  themselves  than  the  general  ones.  Great 
essayists  like  Bacon  and  Emerson  do  not  hesitate  to  dis- 
cuss such  large  subjects  as  "  Death,"  "  Empire,"  "  Friend- 
ship," "  Art,"  and  "  Heroism." 

Whether  the  subject  that  you  have  chosen  is  large  or 
small,  you  should  have  your  thoughts  in  order  before  you 
begin  your  composition.  More  bad  writing  springs  from 
inexact  and  disorderly  thinking  than  from  any  other  source. 

Every  one  understands  what  it  is  to  have  a  comfortable 
sense  of  familiarity  with  a  subject,  and  then,  when  he  tries 
to  speak  or  write,  to  find  that  he  can  give  no  satisfactory 
account  of  his  knowledge.  This  means  that  his  supposed 
familiarity  was  merely  a  vague  acquaintance  with  the  sub- 
ject, not  a  well-ordered  body  of  information.  Suppose,  for 
example,  you  should  undertake  to  describe  an  automobile 
offhand.  Unless  you  are  well  acquainted  with  such  vehi- 
cles, you  would  soon  discover  that  your  information  is 
defective  and  your  ideas  too  hazy  to  be  of  any  service 
to  your  reader.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  have  actually 
studied  the  mechanism  of  an  automobile  and  have  arranged 
your  ideas  on  the  subject,  you  may  be  able  to  write  a 


ADAPTATION  TO   THE  READER  9 

useful  and  interesting  essay.  Read  Newman's  "  Definition 
of  a  Gentleman,"1  and  see  how  clearly  and  definitely  he 
must  have  thought  out  his  ideas  on  this  uncertain  topic 
before  he  began  to  write.  We  may  learn  the  same  lesson 
from  Washington's  "  Farewell  Address."  Here,  again, 
large  and  elusive  matters  are  discussed  with  a  firmness 
and  a  precision  that  come  only  from  exact  and  orderly 
thinking. 

In  the  case  of  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  we  know  that 
Dickens  was  meditating  on  the  idea  of  the  book  for  more 
than  a  year  before  he  began  it.  Even  then,  it  must  have 
required  all  Ins  constructive  skill  to  carry  the  main  plot  — 
the  story  of  Lucie  Manette  and  Charles  Darnay  —  clearly 
and  strongly  through  all  the  complications  of  the  novel, 
never  allowing  the  main  thread  to  become  entangled 
with  the  minor  threads  (the  story  of  the  Defarges,  of  Dr. 
Manette,  of  the  Evremonde  family,  etc.).  Narration,  then, 
no  less  than  other  forms  of  writing,  demands  a  lucidity 
that  is  impossible  without  a  firm  grasp  on  all  the  material 
and  a  fine  sense  of  the  relative  importance  of  details. 

Before  you  begin  to  write,  therefore,  be  sure  that  you  know 
just  what  you  wish  to  write  about,  that  you  know  something 
about  your  subject,  and  that  your  ideas  about  it  are  clear  and 
well  arranged. 


ADAPTATION  TO  THE  READER 

There  is  still  another  question  which  every  writer  should 
ask  himself  before  he  begins:  "For  whom  am  I  writing?" 
or  "To  whom  is  my  composition  addressed?" 

If  he  is  to  write  of  baseball  to  one  wbo  already  knows 
how  to  play  the  game,  he  will  of  course  not  take  the 

i  Pp.  399-400,  below. 


10  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

trouble  to  describe  the  bat  and  the  ball,  or  to  explain 
how  the  bases  are  arranged.  He  will  come  at  once  to 
some  question  of  skilful  playing,  on  which  even  experts 
may  have  different  views.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  he  is 
to  describe  the  game  to  an  English  boy,  who  may  never 
have  heard  of  it,  he  must  begin  at  the  beginning. 

In  literature  we  constantly  recognize  the  importance 
of  adaptation  to  the  reader.  Very  few  children's  books 
interest  older  people ;  and,  on  the  other  hand,  we  can 
all  remember  the  time  when  "  Ivanhoe  "  and  "  Silas  Mar- 
ner  "  did  not  hold  our  attention.  As  our  interests  multiply, 
we  come  to  know  and  to  like  more  and  more  subjects  ;  and 
as  we  read  about  those  subjects  we  want  books  which  go 
into  them  more  thoroughly.  Hence  the  books  that  men 
read  cover  a  wide  range,  since  each  is  adapted  to  the 
tastes  and  the  knowledge  of  a  special  age  or  class. 

Finally,  the  language  which  a  writer  uses  must  be 
adapted  to  the  reader,  no  less  than  the  subject  and  the 
contents  of  his  work.  We  use  simple  language  to  chil- 
dren, both  in  speaking  and  in  writing.  Adults  can  under- 
stand and  appreciate  a  more  mature  form  of  expression. 
No  one  would  explain  a  newly  invented  machine  to  an 
audience  of  expert  mechanics  in  the  same  words  that  he 
would  employ  if  he  were  addressing  an  audience  of  lawyers 
or  business  men. 

In  every  case,  therefore,  you  should  consider  your  readers. 
Make  up  your  mind  what  they  are  likely  to  know  of  the  sub- 
ject already,  and  how  it  can  be  made  interesting  to  them.  Then 
adapt  your  writing  to  their  needs  and  their  tastes. 


CHAPTER  II 

NARRATION 

In  studying  narration  we  shall  need  to  have  constantly 
before  us  a  number  of  specimens,  illustrating  the  great 
variety,  both  of  subject-matter  and  of  form,  which  this  kind 
of  composition  shows.  Seven  such  specimens  are  there- 
fore given  at  the  outset  (pp.  12-29).1 

The  first  specimen,  "My  First  Day  in  Philadelphia,"  is  an 
extract  from  Franklin's  "  Autobiography/ '  It  is  a  straight- 
forward story  of  everyday  experience,  written  in  a  simple  and 
forcible  style. 

The  second,  "  The  Story  of  a  Fire,"  by  Mr.  Jacob  Riis,  gives 
a  vivid  account  of  an  exciting  incident  in  the  life  of  a  great  city. 

The  third,  "  Rumpelstiltskin,"  is  an  example  of  the  best  kind 
of  fairy  tale, —  that  which  has  come  down  to  us  from  old  times 
by  a  long  course  of  oral  tradition.  Such  traditional  nursery  tales 
differ  from  modern  imitations  —  of  which  there  are  many  —  in 
their  unconsciousness  of  art  and  in  having  no  moral  lesson  to 
teach.  They  are  stories  pure  and  simple,  told  for  their  own 
sake. 

The  fourth,  "  Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles,"  is  an  extract 
from  Goldsmith's  "Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  a  novel  based  on  a 
simple,  retired  manner  of  life.  It  has  much  lively  conversation, 
and  the  characters  are  brought  out  with  delicacy  and  humor. 

The  fifth,  Scott's  "  Lochinvar,"  is  a  short  story  in  verse,  full  of 
action,  rapid  in  its  movement,  and  told  with  the  highest  spirit. 

The  sixth,  »  The  Battle  of  Bannockburn,"  from  Scott's  "  Tales 
of  a  Grandfather,"  gives  an  account  of  an  importanl  historical 
event  in  simple,  dignified  language.  It  is  written  with  a  high 
degree  of  narrative  skill. 

i  Tin-  specific  treatment  of  narration  begins  en  ]>.  29. 

M 


12  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

The  seventh,  "  Australian  Superstition,"  by  Sir  George  Grey, 
is  a  true  story,  taken  from  a  famous  book  of  travel  and  adventure 
in  a  wild  region. 

These  seven  specimens  of  narration  should  be  carefully 
read  by  the  student ;  for  they  will  be  continually  cited  in 
the  discussion  that  follows  (pp.  29  ff.).1 


*£r* 


I.    MY  FIRST  DAY  IN  PHILADELPHIA  o 

r 

By  Benjamin  Franklin 


have  been  the  more  particular  in  this  description  of  my 
journey,  and  shall  be  so  of  my  first  entry  into  that  city,  that  you 
may  in  your  mind  compare  such  unlikely  beginnings  with  the 
figure  I  have  since  made  there.  I  was  in  my  working  dress,  my 
best  clothes  being  to  come  round  by  sea.  I  was  dirty  from  my 
journey  ;  my  pockets  were  stuffed  out  with  shirts  and  stockings, 
and  I  knew  no  soul,  nor  where  to  look  for  lodging.  I  was 
fatigued  with  travelling,  rowing,  and  want  of  rest ;  I  was  very 
hungry,  and  my  whole  stock  of  cash  consisted  of  a  Dutch  dollar 
and  about  a  shilling  in  copper.  The  latter  I  gave  the  people  of 
the  boat  for  my  passage,  who  at  first  refused  it,  on  account  of  my 
rowing  ;  but  I  insisted  on  their  taking  it,  a  man  being  sometimes 
more  generous  when  he  has  but  a  little  money  than  when  he  has 
plenty,  perhaps  through  fear  of  being  thought  to  have  but  little. 
Then  I  walked  up  the  street  gazing  about,  till,  near  the  market- 
house,  I  met  a  boy  with  bread.  I  had  made  many  a  meal  on 
bread,  and,  inquiring  where  he  got  it,  I  went  immediately  to  the 
baker's  he  directed  me  to,  in  Second  Street,  and  asked  for  biscuit, 
intending  such  as  we  had  in  Boston  ;  but  they,  it  seems,  were  not 
made  in  Philadelphia.  Then  I  asked  for  a  threepenny  loaf,  and 
was  told  they  had  none  such.  So,  not  considering  or  knowing 
the  difference  of  money,  and  the  greater  cheapness  nor2  the 
names  of  his  bread,  I  bade  him  give  me  threepenny-worth  of  any 

i  Other  specimens  of  narration  will  be  given  from  time  to  time  as  occa- 
sion requires. 

2  This  use  of  nor  is  hardly  in  accordance  with  present  usage,  but  was 
proper  in  Franklin's  time. 


NARRATION  13 

sort.  He  gave  me,  accordingly,  three  great  puffy  rolls.  I  was 
surprised  at  the  quantity,  but  took  it,  and,  having  no  room  in  my 
pockets,  walked  off  with  a  roll  under  each  arm,  and  eating  the 
other.  Thus  I  went  up  Market  Street  as  far  as  Fourth  Street, 
passing  by  the  door  of  Mr.  Reed,  my  future  wife's  father;  when 
she,  standing  at  the  door,  saw  me,  and  thought  I  made,  as  I 
certainly  did,  a  most  awkward,  ridiculous  appearance.  Then  I 
turned  and  went  down  Chestnut  Street  and  part  of  Walnut 
Street,  eating  my  roll  all  the  way,  and,  coming  round,  found 
myself  again  at  Market  Street  wharf,  near  the  boat  I  came  in,  to 
which  I  went  for  a  draught  of  the  river  water  ;  and,  being  filled 
with  one  of  my  rolls,  gave  the  other  two  to  a  woman  and  her 
child  that  came  down  the  river  in  the  boat  with  us  and  were 
waiting  to  go  farther. 

Thus  refreshed,  I  walked  again  up  the  street,  which  by  this 
time  had  many  clean-dressed  people  in  it,  who  were  all  walking 
the  same  way.  I  joined  them,  and  thereby  was  led  into  the 
great  meetinghouse  of  the  Quakers  near  the  market.  I  sat 
down  among  them,  and,  after  looking  round  a  while  and  hearing 
nothing  said,  being  very  drowsy  through  labor  and  want  of  rest 
the  preceding  night,  I  fell  fast  asleep,  and  continued  so  till  the 
meeting  broke  up,  when  one  was  kind  enough  to  rouse  me. 
This  was,  therefore,  the  first  house  I  was  in,  or  slept  in,  in 
Philadelphia. 

II.    THE  STORY  OF  A  FIRE  i 

By  Jacob  A.  Hi  is 

Thirteen  years  have  passed  since,  but  it  is  all  to  me  as  if  it 
had  happened  yesterday, —  the  clanging  of  the  fire-bells,  the 
hoarse  shouts  of  the  firemen,  the  wild  rush  and  terror  of  the 
streets  ;  then  the  great  hush  that  fell  upon  the  crowd  ;  the  sea  of 
upturned  faces  with  the  fire  glow  upon  it;  and  up  there,  against 
the  background  of  black  smoke  that  poured  from  roof  and  attic, 
the  boy  clinging  to  the  narrow  ledge,  so  far  up  that  it  seemed 
humanly  impossible  that  help  could  ever  come. 

i  From  "  The  Century,"  Vol.  LV,  p.  483  (by  permission  of  The  Century 
Company). 


14  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

But  even  then  it  was  coming.  Up  from  the  street,  while  the 
crew  of  the  truck -company  were  laboring  with  the  heavy  exten- 
sion ladder  that  at  its  longest  stretch  was  many  feet  too  short, 
crept  four  men  upon  long,  slender  poles  with  cross-bars,  iron- 
hooked  at  the  end.  Standing  in  one  window,  they  reached  up 
and  thrust  the  hook  through  the  next  one  above,  then  mounted  a 
story  higher.  Again  the  crash  of  glass,  and  again  the  dizzy 
ascent.  -  Straight  up  the  wall  they  crept,  looking  like  human 
flies  on  the  ceiling,  and  clinging  as  close,  never  resting,  reaching 
one  recess  only  to  set  out  for  the  next ;  nearer  and  nearer  in  the 
race  for  life,  until  but  a  single  span  separated  the  foremost  from 
the  boy.  And  now  the  iron  hook  fell  at  his  feet,  and  the  fireman 
stood  upon  the  step  with  the  rescued  lad  in  his  arms,  just  as  the 
pent-up  flame  burst  lurid  from  the  attic  window,  reaching  with 
impotent  fury  for  its  prey.  The  next  moment  they  were  safe 
upon  the  great  ladder  waiting  to  receive  them  below. 

Then  such  a  shout  went  up  !  Men  fell  on  each  other's  necks, 
and  cried  and  laughed  at  once.  Strangers  slapped  one  another 
on  the  back  with  glistening  faces,  shook  hands,  and  behaved 
generally  like  men  gone  suddenly  mad.  Women  wept  in  the 
street.  The  driver  of  a  car  stalled  in  the  crowd,  who  had  stood 
through  it  all  speechless,  clutching  the  reins,  whipped  his  horses 
into  a  gallop  and  drove  away,  yelling  like  a  Comanche,  to  relieve 
his  feelings.  The  boy  and  his  rescuer  were  carried  across  the 
street  without  any  one  knowing  how.  Policemen  forgot  their 
dignity  and  shouted  with  the  rest.  Fire,  peril,  terror,  and  loss 
were  alike  forgotten  in  the  one  touch  of  nature  that  makes  the 
whole  world  kin. 

Fireman  John  Binns  was  made  captain  of  his  crew,  and  the 
Bennett  medal  was  pinned  on  his  coat  on  the  next  parade  day. 


III.    RUMPELSTILTSKIN  i 

Once  there  was  a  miller  who  was  poor,  but  who  had  a  beauti- 
ful daughter.  Now  it  happened  that  he  had  to  go  and  speak  to 
the  king,  and,  in  order  to  make  himself  appear  important,  he 
said  to  him,  '<  I  have  a  daughter  who  can  spin  straw  into  gold." 

1  From  Margaret  Hunt's  translation  of  "Grimm's  Household  Tales" 
(London,  George  Bell  &  Sons). 


NARRATION  15 

The  king  said  to  the  miller :  "  That  is  an  art  which  pleases  me 
well.  If  your  daughter  is  as  clever  as  you  say,  bring  her  to-morrow 
to  my  palace,  and  I  will  try  what  she  can  do." 

When  the  girl  was  brought  to  him,  he  took  her  into  a  room 
which  was  quite  full  of  straw,  gave  her  a  spinning-wheel  and  a 
reel,  and  said,  "  Now  set  to  work,  and  if  by  to-morrow  morning 
early  you  have  not  spun  this  straw  into  gold  during  the  night, 
you  must  die."  Thereupon  he  himself  locked  up  the  room,  and 
left  her  in  it  alone.  So  there  sat  the  poor  miller's  daughter,  and 
for  her  life  could  not  tell  what  to  do.  She  had  no  idea'  how 
straw  could  be  spun  into  gold,  and  she  grew  more  and  more 
miserable,  until  at  last  she  began  to  weep. 

All  at  once  the  door  opened,  and  in  came  a  little  man,  and 
said,  "  Good  evening,  Mistress  Miller.    Why  are  you  crying  so  ?  " 

"  Alas  !  "  answered  the  girl,  "  I  have  to  spin  straw  into  gold, 
and  I  do  not  know  how  to  do  it." 

' '  What  will  you  give  me,"  said  the  manikin, "  if  I  do  it  for  you  ?" 

••  My  necklace,"  said  the  girl. 

The  little  man  took  the  necklace,  seated  himself  in  front  of  the 
wheel,  and  "  whirr,  whirr,  whirr  !  "  three  turns  and  the  reel  was 
full ;  then  he  put  another  on,  and  "  whirr,  whirr,  whirr  !  "  three 
times  round,  and  the  second  was  full  too.  And  so  it  wrent  on 
until  the  morning,  when  all  the  straw  was  spun,  and  all  the  reels 
were  full  of  gold. 

By  daybreak  the  king  was  already  there,  and  when  he  saw  the 
gold  he  was  astonished  and  delighted,  but  his  heart  became  only 
more  greedy.  He  had  the  miller's  daughter  taken  into  another 
room  full  of  straw,  which  was  much  larger,  and  commanded  her 
to  spin  that  also  in  one  night  if  she  valued  her  life.  The  girl 
knew  not  how  to  help  herself,  and  was  crying,  when  the  door 
again  opened,  and  the  little  man  appeared,  and  said,  "  What  will 
you  give  me  if  I  spin  the  straw  into  gold  for  you?  " 

"  The  ring  on  my  linger,"  answered  the  girl. 

The  little  man  took  the  ring,  again  began  to  turn  the  wheel, 
and  by  morning  had  spun  all  the  straw  into  glittering  gold. 

The  king  rejoiced  beyond  measure  at  the  sight,  but  still  he 
had  not  gold  enough;  and  he  had  the  miller's  daughter  taken 
into  a  still  larger  room  full  of  straw,  and  said  :  "  Yon  must  spin 
this,  too,  in  the  course  of  this  night ;  but  if  you  succeed,  you 
shall  be  my  wife." 


16  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

"  Even  if  she  be  a  miller's  daughter,"  thought  he,  "  I  could 
not  find  a  richer  wife  in  the  whole  world." 

When  the  girl  was  alone,  the  manikin  came  again  for  the  third 
time,  and  said,  "  What  will  you  give  me  if  I  spin  the  straw  for 
you  this  time  also  ?  ' ' 

"  I  have  nothing  left  that  I  could  give,"  answered  the  girl. 

"  Then  promise  me,  if  you  should  become  queen,  your  first 
child." 

"  Who  knows  whether  that  will  ever  happen?  "  thought  the 
miller's  daughter  ;  and,  not  knowing  how  else  to  help  herself  in 
this  strait,  she  promised  the  manikin  what  he  wanted,  and  for 
that  he  once  more  spun  the  straw  into  gold. 

When  the  king  came  in  the  morning,  and  found  all  as  he  had 
wished,  he  took  her  in  marriage,  and  the  miller's  pretty  daughter 
became  a  queen. 

A  year  after,  she  had  a  beautiful  child,  and  she  never  gave  a 
thought  to  the  manikin.  But  suddenly  he  came  into  her  room, 
and  said,  "Now  give  me  what  you  promised."  The  queen  was 
horror-struck,  and  offered  the  manikin  all  the  riches  of  the  king- 
dom if  he  would  leave  her  the  child.  But  the  manikin  said, 
"  No,  something  that  is  living  is  dearer  to  me  than  all  the  treas- 
ures in  the  world."  The  queen  began  to  weep  and  cry,  so  that 
the  manikin  pitied  her. 

"  I  will  give  you  three  days'  time,"  said  he.  "  If  by  that  time 
you  find  out  my  name,  then  shall  you  keep  your  child." 

So  the  queen  thought  the  whole  night  of  all  the  names  that 
she  had  ever  heard,  and  she  sent  a  messenger  over  the  country  to 
inquire,  far  and  wide,  for  any  other  names  that  there  might  be. 
When  the  manikin  came  the  next  day,  she  began  with  "  Caspar," 
"  Melchior,"  "  Balthazar,"  and  said  all  the  names  she  knew,  one 
after  another  ;  but  to  every  one  the  little  man  said,  "  That  is  not 
my  name."  On  the  second  day  she  had  inquiries  made  in  the 
neighborhood  as  to  the  names  of  the  people  there,  and  she 
repeated  to  the  manikin  the  most  uncommon  and  curious:  "Per- 
haps your  name  is  Shortribs,  or  Sheepshanks,  or  Laceleg?  "  but 
he  always  answered,  "  That  is  not  my  name." 

On  the  third  day  the  messenger  came  back  again,  and  said : 
"  I  have  not  been  able  to  find  a  single  new  name,  but  as  I  came 
to  a  high  mountain  at  the  end  of  the  forest,  where  the  fox  and 
the  hare  bid  each  other  good  night,  there  I  saw  a  little  house, 


NARRATION  17 

and  before  the  house  a  fire  was  burning,  and  round  about  the 
fire  quite  a  ridiculous  little  man  was  jumping  :  he  hopped  upon 
one  leg,  and  shouted  — 

"  '  To-day  I  bake,  to-morrow  brew, 

The  next  I'll  have  the  young  queen's  child. 
Ha  !  glad  I  am  that  no  one  knew 

That  Rumpelstiltskin  I  am  styled.'  " 

You  may  think  how  glad  the  queen  was  when  she  heard  the 
name  !  And  when  soon  afterwards  the  little  man  came  in,  and 
asked,  "Now,  Mistress  Queen,  what  is  my  name?"  at  first 
she  said,  "Is  your  name  Conrad?"  "No."  "Is  your  name 
Harry?"    "No." 

"  Perhaps  your  name  is  Rumpelstiltskin?  " 

"  The  devil  has  told  you  that !  the  devil  has  told  you  that !  " 
cried  the  little  man,  and  in  his  anger  he  plunged  his  right  foot  so 
deep  into  the  earth  that  his  whole  leg  went  in  ;  and  then  in  rage 
he  pulled  at  his  left  leg  so  hard  with  both  hands  that  he  tore 
himself  in  two. 

IV.    MOSES   AND   THE   GREEN   SPECTACLES 
By  Oliver  Goldsmith 

As  the  fair  happened  on  the  following  day,  I  had  intentions 
of  going  myself  ;  but  my  wife  persuaded  me  that  I  had  got  a  cold, 
and  nothing  could  prevail  upon  her  to  permit  me  from  home. 
"  No,  my  dear,"  said  she,  "  our  son  Moses  is  a  discreet  boy,  and 
can  buy  and  sell  to  very  good  advantage.  You  know  all  our 
great  bargains  are  of  his  purchasing.  He  always  stands  out  and 
higgles,  and  actually  tires  them  till  he  gets  a  bargain." 

As  I  had  some  opinion  of  my  son's  prudence,  I  was  willing 
enough  to  intrust  him  with  this  commission  ;  and  the  next  morn- 
ing I  perceived  his  sisters  mighty1  busy  in  fitting  out  Moses  for 
the  fair,  —  trimming  his  hair,  brushing  his  buckles,  and  cocking 
his  hat  with  pins.  The  business  of  the  toilet  being  over,  we  had 
at  last  the  satisfaction  of  seeing  him  mounted  upon  the  colt,  with 
a  deal  box  before  him  to  bring  home  groceries  in.  lie  had  on  a 
coat  made  of  that  cloth  they  call  thunder-and-lightning,  which, 

1  This  adverbial  use  of  mighty  was  formerly  common  in  good  writers, 
but  is  now  obsolete  except  in  very  informal  conversation. 


18  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

though  grown  too  short,  was  much  too  good  to  be  thrown  away. 
His  waistcoat  was  of  gosling  green,  and  his  sisters  had  tied  his 
hair  with  a  broad  black  riband.  We  all  followed  him  several 
paces  from  the  door,  bawling  after  him,  "Good  luck!  good 
luck  !  "  till  we  could  see  him  no  longer. 

He  was  scarcely  gone  when  Mr.  ThornhilTs  butler  came  to 
congratulate  us  upon  our  good  fortune,  saying  that  he  overheard 
his  young  master  mention  our  names  with  great  commendation. 

Good  fortune  seemed  resolved  not  to  come  alone.  Another 
footman  from  the  same  family  followed,  with  a  card  for  my 
daughters,  importing  that  the  two  ladies  had  received  such  pleas- 
ing accounts  from  Mr.  Thornhill  of  us  all  that,  after  a  few 
previous  inquiries,  they  hoped  to  be  perfectly  satisfied. 

"  Ay  !  "  cried  my  wife,  "  I  now  see  it  is  no  easy  matter  to  get 
into  the  families  of  the  great ;  but  when  one  once  gets  in,  then, 
as  Moses  says,  one  may  go  to  sleep." 

To  this  piece  of  humor  —  for  she  intended  it  for  wit  —  my 
daughters  assented  with  a  loud  laugh  of  pleasure.  In  short,  such 
was  her  satisfaction  at  this  message  that  she  actually  put  her  hand 
in  her  pocket  and  gave  the  messenger  sevenpence  halfpenny. 

This  was  to  be  our  visiting  day.  The  next  that  came  was 
Mr.  Burchell,  who  had  been  at  the  fair.  He  brought  my  little 
ones  a  pennyworth  of  gingerbread  each,  which  my  wife  undertook 
to  keep  for  them,  and-give  them  by  little  at  a  time.  He  brought 
my  daughters  also  a  couple  of  boxes,  in  which  they  might  keep 
wafers,  snuff,  patches,  or  even  money,  when  they  got  it.  My  wife 
was  unusually  fond  of  a  weasel-skin  purse,  as  being  the  most 
lucky  ;  but  this  by  the  by.1 

Tf:  flr  ^  -if:  7P1  ^r  1£ 

I  changed  the  subject  by  seeming  to  wonder  what  could  keep 
our  son  so  long  at  the  fair,  as  it  was  now  almost  nightfall. 

"  Never  mind  our  son  !  "  cried  my  wife.  "  Depend  upon  it  he 
knows  what  he  is  about.  I  'll  warrant  we  shall  never  see  him  sell 
his  hen  of  a  rainy  day.  I  have  seen  him  buy  such  bargains  as 
would  amaze  one.  I  'll  tell  you  a  good  story  about  that,  that  will 
make  you  split  your  sides  with  laughing.  But,  as  I  live,  yonder 
comes  Moses,  without  a  horse,  and  the  box  at  his  back." 

1  The  omitted  passage  gives  an  account  of  the  way  in  which  the  Vicar 
and  his  family  spent  their  time  during  the  absence  of  Moses. 


NARRATION  19 

As  she  spoke,  Moses  came  slowly  on  foot,  and  sweating  under 
the  deal  box,  which  he  had  strapped  round  his  shoulders  like  a 
peddler. 

"Welcome,  welcome,  Moses!  Well,  my  boy,  what  have  you 
brought  us  from  the  fair  ?  ' ' 

"  I  have  brought  you  myself,"  cried  Moses,  with  a  sly  look, 
and  resting  the  box  on  the  dresser. 

"  Ay,  Moses  I  "  cried  my  wife,  "  that  we  know  ;  but  where  is 
the  horse?" 

"  I  have  sold  him,"  cried  Moses,  "  for  three  pounds,  five  shil- 
lings, and  twopence." 

"  Well  done,  my  good  boy  !  "  returned  she.  "  I  knew  you  would 
touch  them  off.  Between  ourselves,  three  pounds,  five  shillings, 
and  twopence  is  no  bad  day's  work.    Come,  let  us  have  it,  then." 

"  I  have  brought  back  no  money,"  cried  Moses  again.  "  I  have 
laid  it  all  out  on  a  bargain,  and  here  it  is  "■ — -pulling  out  a  bun- 
dle from  his  breast.  "  Here  they  are,  — a  gross  of  green  specta- 
cles, with  silver  rims  and  shagreen  cases." 

"  A  gross  of  green  spectacles  !  "  repeated  my  wife,  in  a  faint 
voice.  "  And  you  have  parted  with  the  colt,  and  brought  us  back 
nothing  but  a  gross  of  paltry  green  spectacles  !  " 

••  Dear  mother,"  cried  the  boy,  "  why  won't  you  listen  to  rea- 
son? I  had  them  a  dead  bargain,  or  I  should  not  have  bought 
them.    The  silver  rims  alone  will  sell  for  double  the  money." 

"  A  fig  for  the  silver  rims  !  "  cried  my  wife,  in  a  passion.  "  I 
dare  swear  they  won't  sell  for  above  half  the  money  at  the  rate 
of  broken  silver,  five  shillings  an  ounce." 

"  You  need  be  under  no  uneasiness,"  cried  I,  "  about  selling 
the  rims,  for  they  are  not  worth  sixpence  ;  for  I  perceive  they 
are  only  copper  varnished  over." 

"  What,"  cried  my  wife,  "  not  silver  !  — the  rim  snot  silver  !  " 

"  No,"  cried  T,  "  no  more  silver  than  your  saucepan." 

"  And  so,"  returned  she,  "  we  have  parted  with  the  colt,  and 
have  only  got  a  gross  of  green  spectacles,  with  copper  rims  and 
shagreen  cases.  A  murrain  take  such  trumpery  !  The  blockhead 
has  been  imposed  on,  and  should  have  known  his  company  better." 

"There,  my  dear,"  cried  I,  "you  are  wrong;  he  should  not 
have  known  them  at  all." 

"Marry,  hang  the  idiot!  "  returned  she,  "to  bring  me  such 
stuff.     If  T  had  them  I  would  throw  them  into  the  fire." 


20  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

"  There  again  you  are  wrong,  my  dear,"  cried  I  ;  "  for,  though 
they  be  copper,  we  will  keep  them  by  us,  as  copper  spectacles, 
you  know,  are  better  than  nothing." 

By  this  time  the  unfortunate  Moses  was  undeceived.  He  now 
saw  that  he  had  indeed  been  imposed  upon  by  a  prowling  sharper, 
who,  observing  his  figure,  had  marked  him  for  an  easy  prey.  I 
therefore  asked  the  circumstances  of  his  deception.  He  sold  the 
horse,  it  seems,  and  walked  the  fair  in  search  of  another.  A 
reverend-looking  man  brought  him  to  a  tent,  under  pretence  of 
having  one  to  sell.  "  Here,"  continued  Moses,  "  we  met  another 
man,  very  well  dressed,  who  desired  to  borrow  twenty  pounds 
upon  these,  saying  that  he  wanted  money  and  would  dispose  of 
them  for  a  third  of  their  value.  The  first  gentleman,  who  pre- 
tended to  be  my  friend,  whispered  to  me  to  buy  them,  and 
cautioned  me  not  to  let  so  good  an  offer  pass.  I  sent  for  Mr. 
Flamborough,  and  they  talked  him  up  as  finely  as  they  did 
me,  and  so  at  last  we  were  persuaded  to  buy  the  two  gross 
between  us." 

V.    LOCHINVAR 

By  Sir  Walter  Scott 

O,  young  Lochinvar  is  come  out  of  the  west, 
Through  all  the  wide  border  his  steed  was  the  best  ; 
And  save  his  good  broadsword  he  weapons  had  none, 
He  rode  all  unarmed,  and  he  rode  all  alone. 
So  faithful  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 
There  never  was  knight  like  the  young  Lochinvar. 

He  stayed  not  for  brake,  and  he  stopped  not  for  stone, 

He  swam  the  Eske  river  where  ford  there  was  none  ; 

But,  ere  he  alighted  at  Netherby  gate, 

The  bride  had  consented,  the  gallant  came  late  : 

For  a  laggard  in  love,  and  a  dastard  in  war, 

Was  to  wed  the  fair  Ellen  of  brave  Lochinvar. 

So  boldly  he  entered  the  Netherby  hall, 

Among  bride 's-men,  and  kinsmen,  and  brothers,  and  all  : 

Then  spoke  the  bride's  father,  his  hand  on  his  sword,  — 


NARRATION  21 

For  the  poor  craven  bridegroom  said  never  a  word,  — ■ 

"  O  come  ye  in  peace  here,  or  come  ye  in  war, 

Or  to  dance  at  our  bridal,  young  Lord  Lochinvar?  " 

"  I  long  woo'd  your  daughter,  my  suit  you  denied  ; 
Love  swells  like  the  Solway,  but  ebbs  like  its  tide  ; 
Aud  now  I  am  come,  with  this  lost  love  of  mine, 
To  lead  but  one  measure,  drink  one  cup  of  wine. 
There  are  maidens  in  Scotland  more  lovely  by  far, 
Who  would  gladly  be  bride  to  the  young  Lochinvar." 

The  bride  kissed  the  goblet :  the  knight  took  it  up, 
He  quaffed  off  the  wine,  and  he  threw  down  the  cup. 
She  looked  down  to  blush,  and  she  looked  up  to  sigh, 
With  a  smile  on  her  lips,  and  a  tear  in  her  eye. 
He  took  her  soft  hand,  ere  her  mother  could  bar,  — 
"  Now  tread  we  a  measure  !  "  said  young  Lochinvar. 

So  stately  his  form,  and  so  lovely  her  face, 

That  never  a  hall  such  a  galliard  did  grace  ; 

While  her  mother  did  fret,  and  her  father  did  fume, 

And  the  bridegroom  stood  dangling  his  bonnet  and  plume, 

And  the  bride-maidens  whispered,  "  'T  were  better  by  far 

To  have  matched  our  fair  cousin  with  young  Lochinvar. " 

One  touch  to  her  hand,  and  one  word  in  her  ear, 

When  they  reached  the  hall  door  where  the  charger  stood  near  ; 

So  light  to  the  croup  the  fair  lady  he  swung, 

So  light  to  the  saddle  before  her  he  sprung  ! 

"  She  is  won  !  we  are  gone,  over  bank,  bush,  and  scaur  ; 

They  '11  have  fleet  steeds  that  follow,"  quoth  young  Lochinvar. 


There  was  mounting  'mong  Graemes  of  the  Netherby  clan  ; 

Forsters,  Fenwicks,  and  Musgraves,  they  rode  and  they  ran ; 

There  was  racing  and  chasing  on  Cannobie  Lee, 

But  the  lost  bride  of  Netherby  ne'er  did  they  see. 

So  daring  in  love,  and  so  dauntless  in  war, 

Have  ye  e'er  heard  of  gallant  like  young  Lochinvar? 


22  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

VI.    THE  BATTLE  OF  BANNOCKBURN * 
By  Sin  Walter  Scott 

King  Edward  the  Second  assembled  one  of  the  greatest  armies 
which  a  king  of  England  ever  commanded.  There  were  troops 
brought  from  all  his  dominions.  Many  brave  soldiers  from  the 
French  provinces  which  the  king  of  England  possessed  in  France, 
—  many  Irish,  many  Welsh,  —  and  all  the  great  English  nobles 
and  barons,  with  their  followers,  were  assembled  in  one  great 
army.  The  number  was  not  less  than  one  hundred  thousand 
men. 

King  Robert  the  Bruce  summoned  all  his  nobles  and  barons  to 
join  him,  when  he  heard  of  the  great  preparations  which  the  king 
of  England  was  making.  They  were  not  so  numerous  as  the 
English  by  many  thousand  men.  In  fact,  his  whole  army  did 
not  very  much  exceed  thirty  thousand,  and  they  were  much  worse 
armed  than  the  wealthy  Englishmen  ;  but  then,  Robert,  who  was 
at  their  head,  was  one  of  the  most  expert  generals  of  the  time  ; 
and  the  officers  he  had  under  him  were  his  brother  Edward,  his 
nephew  Randolph,  his  faithful  follower  the  Douglas,  and  other 
brave  and  experienced  leaders,  who  commanded  the  same  men 
that  had  been  accustomed  to  fight  and  gain  victories  under  every 
disadvantage  of  situation  and  numbers. 

The  king,  on  his  part,  studied  how  he  might  supply,  by  address 
and  stratagem,  what  he  wanted  in  numbers  and  strength.  He 
knew  the  superiority  of  the  English,  both  in  their  heavy-armed 
cavalry,  which  were  much  better  mounted  and  armed  than  that 
of  the  Scots,  and  in  their  archers,  who  were  better  trained  than 
any  others  in  the  world.  Both  these  advantages  he  resolved  to 
provide  against.  With  this  purpose,  he  led  his  army  down  into 
a  plain  near  Stirling,  called  the  Park,  near  which,  and  beneath 
it,  the  English  army  must  needs  pass  through  a  boggy  country, 
broken  with  watercourses,  while  the  Scots  occupied  hard,  dry 
ground.  He  then  caused  all  the  ground  upon  the  front  of  his 
line  of  battle,  where  cavalry  were  likely  to  act,  to  be  dug  full  of 
holes,  about  as  deep  as  a  man's  knee.  They  were  filled  with 
light  brushwood,  and  the  turf  was  laid  on  the  top,  so  that  it 
appeared  a  plain  field,  while  in  reality  it  was  all  full  of  these  pits, 

i  From  "  Tales  of  a  Grandfather." 


NARRATION  23 

as  a  honeycomb  is  of  holes.  He  also,  it,  is  said,  caused  steel  pikes, 
called  calthrops.  to  be  scattered  up  and  down  in  the  plain,  where 
the  English  cavalry  were  most  likely  to  advance,  trusting  in  that 
manner  to  lame  and  destroy  their  horses. 

When  the  Scottish  army  was  drawn  up,  the  line  stretched 
north  and  south.  On  the  south,  it  was  terminated  by  the  banks 
of  the  brook  called  Bannockburn,  which  are  so  rocky  that  no  troops 
could  attack  them  there.  On  the  left,  the  Scottish  line  extended 
near  to  the  town  of  Stirling.  Bruce  reviewed  his  troops  very 
carefully  ;  all  the  useless  servants,  drivers  of  carts,  and  such  like, 
of  whom  there  were  very  many,  he  ordered  to  go  behind  a  height, 
afterwards,  in  memory  of  the  event,  called  the  Gillies'  Hill,  that 
is,  the  Servants'  Hill.  He  then  spoke  to  the  soldiers,  and  ex- 
pressed his  determination  to  gain  the  victory,  or  to  lose  his 
life  on  the  field  of  battle.  He  desired  that  all  those  who  did 
not  propose  to  fight  to  the  last  should  leave  the  field  before  the 
battle  began,  and  that  none  should  remain  except  those  who 
were  determined  to  take  the  issue  of  victory  or  death,  as  God 
should  send  it. 

When  the  main  body  of  his  army  was  thus  placed  in  order, 
the  king  posted  Randolph,  with  a  body  of  horse,  near  to  the 
church  of  St.  Ninian's,  commanding  him  to  use  the  utmost  dili- 
gence to  prevent  any  succors  from  being  thrown  into  Stirling 
Castle.  He  then  despatched  James  of  Douglas,  and  Sir  Robert 
Keith,  the  Mareschal  of  the  Scottish  army,  in  order  that  they 
might  survey,  as  nearly  as  they  could,  the  English  force,  which 
was  now  approaching  from  Falkirk.  They  returned  with  infor- 
mation that  the  approach  of  that  vast  host  was  one  of  the  most 
beautiful  and  terrible  sights  which  could  be  seen, — that  the 
whole  country  seemed  covered  with  men-at-arms  on  horse  and 
foot,  —  that  the  number  of  standards,  banners,  and  pennons  (all 
flags  of  different  kinds)  made  so  gallant  a  show  that  the  bravest 
and  most  numerous  host  in  Christendom  might  be  alarmed  to  see 
King  Edward  moving  against  them. 

It  was  upon  the  23d  of  June  (1314)  the  king  of  Scotland  heard 
the  news,  that  the  English  army  were  approaching  Stirling.  He 
drew  out  his  army,  therefore,  in  the  order  which  he  had  before 
resolved  on.  After  a  short  time,  Bruce,  who  was  looking  out 
anxiously  for  the  enemy,  saw  a  body  of  English  cavalry  trying 
to  get  into  Stirling  from  t  lie  eastward.    This  was  the  Lord  ClilTord, 


24  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

who,  with  a  chosen  body  of  eight  hundred  horse,  had  been  detached 
to  relieve  the  castle. 

"  See,  Randolph,"  said  the  king  to  his  nephew,  "  there  is  a  rose 
fallen  from  your  chaplet."  By  this  he  meant  that  Randolph  had 
lost  some  honor  by  suffering  the  enemy  to  pass  where  he  had  been 
stationed  to  hinder  them.  Randolph  made  no  reply,  but  rushed 
against  Clifford  with  little  more  than  half  his  number.  The 
Scots  were  on  foot.  The  English  turned  to  charge  them  with  their 
lances,  and  Randolph  drew  up  his  men  in  close  order  to  receive 
the  onset.  He  seemed  to  be  in  so  much  danger,  that  Douglas 
asked  leave  of  the  king  to  go  and  assist  him.  The  king  refused 
h'im  permission. 

"  Let  Randolph,"  he  said,  "  redeem  his  own  fault ;  I  cannot 
break  the  order  of  battle  for  his  sake. "  Still  the  danger  appeared 
greater,  and  the  English  horse  seemed  entirely  to  encompass  the 
small  handful  of  Scottish  infantry.  "  So  please  you,"  said  Doug- 
las to  the  king,  "  my  heart  will  not  suffer  me  to  stand  idle  and 
see  Randolph  perish.  I  must  go  to  his  assistance."  He  rode  off 
accordingly  ;  but  long  before  they  had  reached  the  place  of  com- 
bat, he  saw  the  English  horses  galloping  off,  many  with  empty 
saddles. 

«  Halt  !  "  said  Douglas  to  his  men.  "  Randolph  has  gained  the 
day  ;  since  we  were  not  soon  enough  to  help  him  in  the  battle,  do 
not  let  us  lessen  his  glory  by  approaching  the  field."  Now  that 
was  nobly  done,  —  especially  as  Douglas  and  Randolph  were 
always  contending  which  should  rise  highest  in  the  good  opinion 
of  the  king  and  the  nation. 

The  van  of  the  English  army  now  came  in  sight,  and  a  number 
of  their  bravest  knights  drew  near  to  see  what  the  Scots  were 
doing.  They  saw  King  Robert  dressed  in  his  armor,  and  dis- 
tinguished by  a  gold  crown,  which  he  wTore  over  his  helmet.  He 
was  not  mounted  on  his  great  war-horse,  because  he  did  not 
expect  to  fight  that  evening.  But  he  rode  on  a  little  pony  up 
and  down  the  ranks  of  his  army,  putting  his  men  in  order,  and 
carried  in  his  hand  a  sort  of  battle-axe  made  of  steel.  When  the 
king  saw  the  English  horsemen  draw  near,  he  advanced  a  little 
before  his  own  men,  that  he  might  look  at  them  more  nearly. 

There  was  a  knight  among  the  English  called  Sir  Henry 
de  Bohun,  who  thought  this  would  be  a  good  opportunity  to 
gain  great  fame  to  himself,  and  put  an  end  to  the  war,  by  killing 


NARRATION  25 

King  Robert.  The  king  being  poorly  mounted,  and  having  no 
lance,  Bohun  galloped  on  him  suddenly  and  furiously,  thinking, 
with  his  long  spear  and  his  tall  powerful  horse,  easily  to  bear 
him  down  to  the  ground.  King  Robert  saw  him,  and  permitted 
him  to  come  very  near,  then  suddenly  turned  his  pony  a  little  to 
one  side,  so  that  Sir  Henry  missed  him  with  the  lance-point,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  being  carried  past  him  by  the  career  of  his 
horse.  But  as  he  passed,  King  Robert  rose  up  in  his  stirrups. 
and  struck  Sir  Henry  on  the  head  with  his  battle-axe  so  terrible 
a  blow  that  it  broke  to  pieces  his  iron  helmet  as  if  it  had  been  a 
nutshell  and  hurled  him  from  his  saddle.  He  was  dead  before 
he  reached  the  ground.  This  gallant  action  was  blamed  by  the 
Scottish  leaders,  who  thought  Bruce  ought  not  to  have  exposed 
himself  to  so  much  danger  when  the  safety  of  the  whole  army 
depended  on  him.  The  king  only  kept  looking  at  his  weapon, 
which  was  injured  by  the  force  of  the  blow,  and  said,  "I  have 
broken  my  good  battle-axe." 

The  next  morning,  being  the  24th  of  June,  at  break  of  day,  the 
battle  began  in  terrible  earnest.  The  English,  as  they  advanced, 
saw  the  Scots  getting  into  line.  The  Abbot  of  Inchaffray  walked 
through  their  ranks  barefooted,  and  exhorted  them  to  fight  for 
their  freedom.  They  kneeled  down  as  he  passed,  and  prayed  to 
Heaven  for  victory.  King  Edward,  who  saw  this,  called  out, 
"They  kneel  down,  —  they  are  asking  forgiveness!  ';  "Yes," 
said  a  celebrated  English  baron,  called  Ingelram  de  Umphraville, 
«  but  they  ask  it  from  God,  not  from  us.  These  men  will  con- 
quer or  die  upon  the  field." 

The  English  king  ordered  his  men  to  begin  the  battle.  The 
archers  then  bent  their  bows,  and  began  to  shoot  so  closely 
together  that  the  arrows  fell  like  flakes  of  snow  on  a  Christmas 
day.  They  killed  many  of  the  Scots,  and  might,  as  at  Falkirk 
and  other  places,  have  decided  the  victory  ;  but  Bruce,  as  I  told 
you  before,  was  prepared  for  them.  He  had  in  readiness  a  body 
of  men-at-anus,  well-mounted,  who  rode  at  full  gallop  among  the 
archers,  and  as  tlu-y  had  no  weapons  save  their  bows  and  arrows, 
which  they  could  not  use  when  they  were  attacked  hand  to  hand, 
they  were  cut  down  in  great  numbers  by  the  Scottish  horsemen, 
and  thrown  into  total  confusion. 

The  fine  English  cavalry  then  advanced  to  support  their  archers 
and  to  attack  the  Scottish  line.     But  coming  over  the  ground 


26  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

which  was  dug  full  of  pits,  the  horses  fell  into  these  holes,  and 
the  riders  lay  tumbling  about,  without  any  means  of  defence,  and 
unable  to  rise  from  the  weight  of  their  armor.  The  Englishmen 
began  to  fall  into  general  disorder  ;  and  the  Scottish  king,  bring- 
ing up  more  of  his  forces,  attacked  and  pressed  them  still  more 

closely. 

On  a  sudden,  while  the  battle 'was  obstinately  maintained  on 
both  sides,  an  event  happened  which  decided  the  victory.  The 
servants  and  attendants  on  the  Scottish  camp  had,  as  I  told  you, 
been  sent  behind  the  army  to  a  place  afterwards  called  the 
Gillies'  Hill.  But  when  they  saw  that  their  masters  were  likely 
to  gain  the  day,  they  rushed  from  their  place  of  concealment  with 
such  weapons  as  they  could  get,  that  they  might  have  their  share 
in  the  victory  and  in  the  spoil.  The  English,  seeing  them  come 
suddenly  over  the  hill,  mistook  this  disorderly  rabble  for  a  new 
army  coming  up  to  sustain  the  Scots,  and,  losing  all  heart,  began 
to  shift  every  man  for  himself.  Edward  himself  left  the  field  as 
fast  as  he  could  ride.  A  valiant  knight,  Sir  Giles  de  Argentine, 
much  renowned  in  the  wars  of  Palestine,  attended  the  king  till 
he  got  him  out  of  the  press  of  the  combat.  But  he  would  retreat 
no  farther.  "It  is  not  my  custom,"  he  said,  "to  fly."  With 
that  he  took  leave  of  the  king,  set  spurs  to  his  horse,  and  calling 
out  his  war-cry  of  "  Argentine  !  Argentine  !  "  he  rushed  into  the 
thickest  of  the  Scottish  ranks,  and  was  killed.  The  young  Earl 
of  Gloucester  was  also  slain,  fighting  valiantly.  The  Scots  would 
have  saved  him ;  but,  as  he  had  not  put  on  his  armorial  bearings, 
they  did  not  know  him,  and  he  was  cut  to  pieces. 

******** 

The  English  never  before  or  afterwards,  whether  in  France  or 
Scotland,  lost  so  dreadful  a  battle  as  that  of  Bannockburn,  nor 
did  the  Scots  ever  gain  one  of  the  same  importance.  Many  of  the 
best  and  bravest  of  the  English  nobility  and  gentry  lay  dead  on 
the  field  ;  a  great  many  more  were  made  prisoners  ;  and  the  whole 
of  King  Edward's  immense  army  was  dispersed  or  destroyed. 

The  English,  after  this  great  defeat,  were  no  longer  in  a  con- 
dition to  support  their  pretensions  to  be  masters  of  Scotland,  or 
to  continue,  as  they  had  done  for  nearly  twenty  years,  to  send 
armies  into  that  country  to  overcome  it.  On  the  contrary,  they 
became  for  a  time  scarce  able  to  defend  their  own  frontiers  against 
King  Robert  and  his  soldiers. 


NARRATION  27 

VII.    AUSTRALIAN  SUPERSTITION! 
By  Sir  George  Grey 

The  men  slept  but  little  during  the  night ;  every  now  and  then 
one  of  them  visited  the  hole  of  mud  and  water,  to  see  if  a  little 
of  this  fluid  had  drained  into  it,  and  about  an  hour  before  day- 
light I  roused  them  up  to  proceed  upon  their  journey.  They 
were  dreadfully  feeble,  though  upon  the  whole  stronger  than  they 
had  been  for  the  last  three  days.  We  now  entered  upon  a  more 
hilly  country  than  we  had  traversed  yesterday  ;  the  hills  were 
steep,  being  composed  of  sand  and  recent  limestone,  whilst  the 
valleys  were  thickly  wooded  with  grass-trees  and  stunted  bank- 
sias.  The  general  line  of  route  I  followed  was  south  by  east,  and 
we  had  not  travelled  more  than  nine  miles  when  we  came  sud- 
denly upon  a  valley,  with  a  river  running  rapidly  through  it. 
The  sight  of  this  cheered  us  up  ;  and  when  on  tasting  the  water 
we  found  it  excellent,  and  saw  adhering  to  the  banks  a  species  of 
fresh-water  mussel,  called  by  the  natives  ma^rayl-ya,  our  joy  was 
complete. 

I  proceeded  therefore  to  collect  wood  for  my  fire,  and  ordered 
Kaiber  2  to  make  haste  and  gather  some  of  these  mussels,  an  order 
which,  considering  the  hungry  state  he  was  in,  I  imagined  he 
would  gladly  have  obeyed  ;  but  to  my  astonishment  he  refused 
positively  to  touch  one  of  them,  and  evidently  regarded  them  with 
a  superstitious  dread  and  abhorrence.  My  arguments  to  induce 
him  to  move  were  all  thrown  away.  He  constantly  affirmed  that 
if  he  touched  these  shellfish,  through  their  agency  the  boyl-yas  8 
would  acquire  some  mysterious  influence  over  him,  which  would 
end  in  his  death.  lie  could  not  state  a  recent  instance  of  any  ill 
effects  having  happened  from  handling  or  catching  the  mussels  ; 
but  when  I  taunted  him  with  this,  he  very  shrewdly  replied,  that 
his  inability  to  do  so  only  arose  from  the  fact  of  nobody  being 
"  wooden-headed  enough"  to  meddle  with  them,  and  that  he 
intended  to  have  nothing  whatever  to  do  with  them.  This  much 
he  assured  me  was  certain,  that  a  very  longtime  ago  some  natives 
had  eaten  them,  and  that  bad  spirits  had  immediately  killed  them 
for  so  doing. 

1  From  "Travels  in  Northwest  and  Western  Australia." 

2  A  native  Australian  who  was  one  of  the  exploring  party  led  by  Grey. 

•';  The  hoyl-ya  is  the  native  sorcerer. 


28  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Kaiber  was  a  great  deal  too  sensible  a  fellow  to  be  allowed  to 
remain  a  prey  to  so  ridiculous  a  superstition  as  this  was.  I  there- 
fore ordered  him  instantly  to  go  and  bring  some  of  these  mussels 
to  me,  saying  that  I  intended  to  eat  them,  but  that  he  could  iu 
this  respect  please  himself.  He  hereupon,  after  thinking  for  a 
moment  or  two,  got  up  to  obey  me,  and  walked  away  for  this 
purpose  ;  but  I  heard  him,  whilst  occupied  in  the  task,  lamenting 
his  fate  most  bitterly.  It  was  true,  he  said,  that  he  had  not  died 
either  of  hunger  or  thirst,  but  this  was  all  owing  to  his  courage 
and  strong  sinews,  yet  what  would  these  avail  against  the  super- 
natural powers  of  the  boyl-yas.  "They  will  eat  me  at  night, 
whilst,  worn  out  by  fatigue,  I  must  sleep."  Amidst  these  and 
sundry  other  similar  exclamations,  he  brought  the  mussels  to  me. 
By  this  time  my  fire  was  prepared,  and  in  a  few  minutes  I  was 
making  such  a  meal  as  the  weak  state  of  my  stomach  would  admit 
of.  No  inducement  of  mine  could,  however,  prevail  upon  Kaiber 
to  share  with  me,  and  therefore  I  handed  him  the  remains  of  the 

cockatoo. 

As  soon  as  my  repast  was  concluded,  I  walked  about  three 
miles  up  the  river,  in  the  hope  of  getting  a  duck,  Kaiber  accom- 
panying me.  We  saw  several,  but  killed  none.  There  were  some 
fine  reaches  in  the  river,  as  well  as  some  good  flats  along  its  banks. 

In  the  afternoon  we  travelled  about  three  miles  in  a  south-by- 
east  direction,  and  then  came  to  the  bed  of  a  small  stream,  which 
ran  from  east  to  west,  but  was  now  merely  a  chain  of  pools. 
Across  the  bed,  where  we  passed  it,  was  a  native  weir.  Our  route 
during  the  whole  evening  lay  over  hills  similar  to  those  we  passed 
yesterday.  We  did  not  halt  until  it  was  so  dark  that  we  could 
not  see  to  walk,  and  then  just  dropped  at  the  spot  where  we 
ceased  to  move.  The  men  made  their  fire,  and  I  lighted  mine 
from  theirs  ;  but  scarcely  was  this  done  ere  the  rain  fell  in  tor- 
rents. I  had  no  blankets  or  protection  of  any  kind  against  this, 
and  Kaiber  was  in  the  same  predicament ;  so  that  when  the  fire 
was  extinguished,  our  position  became  pitiable  in  the  extreme, 
for  I  know  not  if  I  ever  before  suffered  so  much  from  cold  ;  and 
to  add  to  my  annoyance,  I  every  now  and  then  heard  Kaiber 
chattering  to  himself,  under  its  effects,  rather  than  singing,— 

"  O  wherefore  did  he  eat  the  mussels? 
Now  the  boyl-yas  storms  and  thunder  make ; 
O  wherefore  would  he  eat  the  mussels?  " 


NARRATIVES   AND  STORIES  29 

At  last  I  so  completely  lost  my  temper,  that  I  roared  out,  «  You 
stone-headed  fellow,  Kaiber,  if  you  talk  of  mussels  again,  I  '11 

beat  you." 

"What  spoke  I  this  morning?"  replied  Kaiber.  "You  are 
stone-headed.  We  shall  be  dead  directly.  Wherefore  eat  you 
the  mussels  ?  ' ' 

This  was  beyond  what  my  patience  in  my  present  starved  state 
could  endure.  So  I  got  up  and  began  to  grope  about  for  a  stick 
or  something  to  throw  in  the  direction  of  the  chattering  block- 
head ;  but  he  begged  me  to  remain  quiet,  promising  faithfully 
to  make  no  more  mention  of  the  mussels.  I  therefore  squatted 
down  in  a  state  of  the  most  abject  wretchedness. 

NARRATIVES  AND  STORIES 

Story  and  narrative  are  synonyms ;  narration  and  story- 
telling are  essentially  the  same  thing.  But  we  naturally 
make  a  distinction :  a  narrative  is  commonly  more  formal 
in  tone  and  more  serious  in  purpose  than  a  mere  story. 
The  distinction  is  convenient,  and  it  is  exact  enough  for 
our  present  needs. 

A  story  pure  and  simple  (as  distinguished  from  the 
more  formal  narrative)  aims  to  reproduce  in  the  reader 
the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  the  narrator  has  while 
he  is  telling  it.  We  read  Stanley's  account  of  his  adven- 
tures in  Africa,  or  Peary's  description  of  Ins  life  in  the 
frozen  North,  or  Franklin's  simple  and  unpretentious 
"  Autobiography,"  chiefly  because  of  their  absorbing  inter- 
est. We  read  "Robinson  Crusoe"  or  "  Ivanhoe"  or  Mrs. 
Gaskell's  "Cranford"  or  Stevenson's  "Treasure  Island," 
not  for  information,  but  in  order  to  be  stirred  or  amused. 
Incidentally  we  may  derive  instruction  from  the  work, 
but  that  is  not  our  main  purpose:  we  are  really  in  search 
of  oew  experiences  such  as  our  everyday  life  does  not 
afford. 


30  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

Most  narrative  aims  to  instruct.  Historical  narrative, 
for  instance,  usually  has  an  explanatory  purpose:1  it  does 
not  merely  recite  certain  events ;  it  explains  their  sequence, 
then  relations,  their  causes  and  effects,  their  hearing  on 
the  progress  of  civilization. 

"  The  Siege  of  Arcot  "  (pp.  395-399),  for  example,  is  a  good 
story,  but  it  is  more  than  that :  it  helps  to  make  clear  how  India 
was  won  for  the  British  Empire.  So  Scott's  "Battle  of  Bannock- 
burn  "  (pp.  22-26)  has  its  place  in  his  account  of  the  long  series 
of  wars  between  Scotland  and  England,  which  ended  in  the  union 
of  the  two  kingdoms. 

Again,  a  history  of  the  United  States  does  not  confine  itself 
to  such  striking  incidents  as  the  Boston  Tea  Party,  or  the 
Evacuation  of  New  York,  or  the  Attack  on  Fort  Moultrie,  or 
the  Discovery  of  Gold  in  California.  It  must  explain  how 
thirteen  separate  colonies  were  welded  into  a  single  nation  by  the 
Revolutionary  War  and  the  adoption  of  the  Constitution,  and 
then  how  that  nation  spread  across  the  plains  and  mountains  of 
the  West  until  it  became  the  great  republic  of  to-day.  Some 
historians,  indeed,  concern  themselves  almost  exclusively  with 
discussing  the  formation  and  development  of  the  Constitution, 
and  barely  mention  the  more  exciting  and  picturesque  events 
which  make  history  interesting  to  most  of  us.  In  such  cases, 
though  the  narrative  form  is  retained,  the  purpose  is  mainly 
explanatory. 

So  the  explanation  of  a  mechanical  process  —  like  the 
manufacture  of  wire  nails  or  the  building  of  a  bridge  — 
may  take  the  form  of  a  narrative. 

Note.  —  It  must  not  be  supposed  that  every  piece  of  narration  can  be 
definitely  referred  to  one  or  the  other  of  the  two  classes  indicated,  —  nar- 
ratives and  stories.  The  distinction  consists  in  a  difference  of  purpose, 
which  induces  a  corresponding  difference  in  treatment.  Literature  is  not 
science,  and  pigeon-hole  classification  of  literary  types  is  not  to  be  encour- 
aged.  The  story  pure  and  simple  may  be  regarded  as  one  extreme  of  a 

1  The  subject  of  explanation  (or  exposition)  will  be  treated  later 
(pp.  145 ff.).  It  is  here  mentioned  to  enforce  the  distinction  between  the 
two  kinds  of  narrative  writing. 


NARRATIVES  AND  STORIES  31 

series,  and  unmixed  exposition  (explanatory  writing)  as  the  other.  Between 
these  extremes  lie  an  almost  infinite  number  of  possible  combinations.  In 
particular,  the  distinction  between  (1)  explanatory  narrative  and  (2)  expo- 
sition that  employs  narrative  incidentally,  is  often  vague  enough.  Yet  the 
general  distinctions  are  pretty  obvious,  and  it  is  these  alone  that  are  of  any 
cousequence.  Too  great  exactness  in  these  matters  begets  confusion  and 
thus  defeats  its  own  ends. 

Stories  told  in  verse  differ  from  prose  tales  merely  be- 
cause poetry  differs  from  prose.  They  are  ordinarily  more 
imaginative ;  they  pay  more  attention  to  pure  beauty  of 
expression ;  and  they  move  on  a  higher  plane  of  feeling 
and  emotion.1  The  heroes  of  the  "  Iliad  "  and  the  "  Odys- 
sey "  pass  through  the  great  actions  of  the  story  almost 
on  equal  terms  with  the  gods  and  goddesses  who  weave 
the  tangled  web  of  their  fate ;  the  Ancient  Mariner  lives 
and  suffers  in  a  "  light  that  never  was  on  sea  or  land  "  ; 
and  "  The  Passing  of  Arthur  "  is  clothed  in  an  atmosphere 
of  poetic  beauty  that  would  be  impossible  in  prose.  The 
difference  cannot  be  fully  denned  in  words,  for  it  consists 
rather  in  a  certain  intensity  and  elevation  of  spirit  than  in 
anything  concrete  and  palpable.  The  charm  of  metre  and 
the  beauty  of  poetic  diction  enhance  the  effect.  If,  how- 
ever, the  verse  is  bad,  or  the  writer  deficient  in  poetic 
power  and  artistic  sense,  the  metrical  form  becomes  only 
an  annoyance  to  the  reader. 

A  comparison  between  "  Ivanhoe  "  and  "The  Rime  of  the 
Ancient  Mariner  "  will  bring  out  in  a  striking  way  the  difference 
between  prose  and  poetry  in  narration.  Both  are  romantic  and 
imaginative  ;  both  deal  with  events  and  characters  that  arc  quite 
beyond  the  range  of  our  actual  experiences.  Yet  we  feel  the  dis- 
tinction between  them  from  the  very  beginning.  Tins  distinction 
depends  not  merely  on  the  difference  in  form  and  rhythm  between 
prose  and  verse;  it  depends  quite  as  much  on  the  difference  in 
style,  setting  or  atmosphere,  and  general  tone. 

1  See  p.  349  for  the  characteristics  of  poetical  language. 


32  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

The  reading  of  stories  is  profitable  in  a  variety  of  ways, 
if  the  stories  are  good  ones.  Addison  and  Goldsmith, 
Thackeray  and  Dickens  and  Hawthorne,  and  above  all 
Shakspere,1  had  an  understanding  of  human  nature  and 
an  insight  into  the  springs  of  human  action  that  give 
them  a  place  among  the  great  teachers  of  mankind.  They 
have  set  forth  the  life  of  typical  characters  in  high  and 
memorable  relief ;  so  that  we,  by  reading  their  works,  can 
learn  how  men  and  women  behave  in  circumstances  that 
try  the  soul  and  test  the  character,  and  can  see  how 
human  actions  work  out  their  natural  consequences  for 
good  or  ill. 

To  write  stories,  even  if  they  are  not  very  good  ones,  is 
also  a  profitable  exercise.  Without  some  skill  in  this  art, 
we  cannot  relate  our  own  experiences  clearly  and  vividly 
in  a  letter  to  a  friend.  Practice  in  writing  stories  likewise 
leads  us  to  scrutinize  these  experiences  more  carefully, 
and  thus  helps  us  to  see  more  accurately  just  what  is 
happening  to  us  as  we  pass  through  the  world.  In  short, 
it  makes  life  mean  more  to  us.  But,  besides  these  tangi- 
ble benefits,  such  practice  gives  us  an  insight  into  the 
methods  of  good  literature,  and  so  enables  us  to  choose  our 
books  better  and  enjoy  them  more  intelligently.  In  other 
words,  it  cultivates  our  critical  faculty  and  our  power  of 
literary  appreciation. 

ACTION  IN  NARRATION 

The  essential  thing  in  narration  is  to  make  something 
happen.  Indeed,  the  only  difference  between  a  story  and 
a  description  is  that  the  description  tells  what  things  are, 

1  The  distinction  between  narrative  and  drama  will  be  dwelt  on  later 
(see  pp.  267-273) . 


ACTION   IN  NARRATION  33 

or  where  they  are,  or  how  they  look,  and  the  story  tells 

what  has  happened.    Action,  then,  is  the  prime  virtue  of  a 

story. 

The  Bible  stories  are  excellent  models  in  this  respect, 

because    they  concern    themselves  almost    entirely  with 

action  and  contain  very  little  description.    In  the  story  of 

David  and  Goliath,  for  example,  see  how  much  is  put 

into  five  lines  :  — 

And  it  came  to  pass  when  the  Philistine  arose  and  came  and 
drew  nigh  to  meet  David,  that  David  hasted  and  ran  toward  the 
army  to  meet  the  Philistine.  And  David  put  his  hand  in  his  bag 
and  took  thence  a  stone,  and  slang  it,  and  smote  the  Philistine  in 
his  forehead ;  and  he  fell  upon  his  face  to  the  earth. 

Of  the  sixty-one  words  in  this  passage,  fourteen  are 
verbs ;  no  unnecessary  nouns  are  used,  and  there  is  not 
a  single  descriptive  adjective.  Hence  we  can  hardly 
strike  out  a  word  without  taking  away  from  the  action  of 
the  story.  The  simple  structure  of  the  sentences  also 
enhances  this  effect  of  rapid  and  vigorous  movement. 

The  following  extract  from  Hawthorne's  "  Tanglewood 
Tales,"  though  in  an  altogether  different  style,  is  equally 
full  of  action :  — 

THE  FIGHT  WITH  THE  MINOTAUR 

Without  more  words  on  either  side,  there  ensued  the  most 
awful  fight  between  Theseus  and  the  Minotaur  that  ever  hap- 
pened beneath  the  sun  or  moon.  I  really  know  not  how  it  might 
have  turned  out,  if  the  monster,  in  his  first  headlong  rush  against 
Theseus,  had  not  missed  him,  by  a  hair's  breadth,  and  broken 
one  of  his  horns  short  off  against  the  stone  wall.  On  this  mis- 
hap, he  bellowed  so  intolerably  that  a  part  of  the  labyrinth  tum- 
bled down,  and  all  the  inhabitants  of  Crete  mistook  the  noise  for 
an  uncommonly  heavy  thunder  storm.  Smarting  with  the  pain, 
he  galloped  around  the  open  space  in  so  ridiculous  a,  way  that 
Theseus  laughed  at  it,  long  afterwards,  though  not-  precisely  at 


34  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

the  moment.  After  this,  the  two  antagonists  stood  valiantly  up 
to  one  another,  and  fought  sword  to  horn,  for  a  long  while.  At 
last,  the  Minotaur  made  a  run  at  Theseus,  grazed  his  left  side 
with  his  horn,  and  flung  him  down  ;  and,  thinking  that  he  had 
stabbed  him  to  the  heart,  he  cut  a  great  caper  in  the  air,  opened 
his  bull  mouth  from  ear  to  ear,  and  prepared  to  snap  his  head  off. 
But  Theseus  by  this  time  had  leaped  up,  and  caught  the  monster 
off  his  guard.  Fetching  a  sword-stroke  at  him  with  all  his  force, 
he  hit  him  fair  upon  the  neck,  and  made  his  bull  head  skip  six 
yards  from  his  human  body,  which  fell  flat  upon  the  ground. 

So  now  the  battle  was  ended.  Immediately  the  moon  shone  out 
as  brightly  as  if  all  the  troubles  of  the  world,  and  all  the  wicked- 
ness and  the  ugliness  which  infest  human  life,  were  past  and  gone 
forever. 

Action  in  a  story  of  everyday  life  is  well  illustrated 
by  "Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles"  (pp.  17-20). 

The  first  paragraph  starts  the  story  ;  then  comes  an  amusing 
account  of  the  "fitting  out  "  of  Moses  for  the  fair,  and  of  his 
riding  off,  while  the  family  "bawl  after  him  '  Good  luck!  ' 
till  he  is  out  of  sight.  Then  we  hear  of  the  different  visitors  who 
enlivened  the  day  during  the  absence  of  Moses  :  their  importance 
is  for  the  later  part  of  the  novel,  but  they  keep  up  the  effect  of 
stir  and  bustle  which  characterizes  the  whole  incident.  Then, 
after  the  vicar's  momentary  wonder  at  his  son's  delay,  we  see 
Moses  approaching,  with  the  deal  box  on  his  back.  Finally,  the 
point  of  the  story  —  how  Moses  has  been  cheated  —  is  told  almost 
entirely  by  means  of  dialogue.  But  it  is  dialogue  which  involves 
action.  Indeed,  this  part  of  the  story  might  be  acted  as  it  stands 
without  the  omission  of  more  than  two  or  three  sentences,  and 
even  these  would  serve  as  stase-directions. 


~&v 


Every  story,  then,  should  have  plenty  of  action  and  move- 
ment. The  action  need  not  be  violent  or  boisterous,  and 
the  movement  may  be  either  rapid  or  leisurely,  according 
to  the  nature  of  the  tale ;  but  unless  something  happens, 
there  can,  of  course,  be  no  narration.  When  a  story  ceases 
to  move,  it  is  in  great  danger  of  ceasing  to  exist. 


COHERENCE  AND  ARRANGEMENT  35 

COHERENCE  AND  ARRANGEMENT 

Action  and  movement,  as  has  just  been  said,  are  the 
essential  things  in  narration ;  a  story  without  incidents  is  an 
impossibility.  The  incidents,  however,  must  not  be  discon- 
nected ;  they  must  stand  in  a  clear  relation  to  each  other. 
Otherwise  the  story  lacks  coherence,1  —  that  is,  it  does  not 
"  hang  together,"  —  and  nobody  can  follow  it.  To  ensure 
clearness  and  coherence,  the  incidents  must  be  arranged  in 
an  orderly  way,  so  that  the  story  shall  move  on  smoothly 
and  without  confusion  or  interruption. 

Thus  Franklin  (p.  13)  does  not  mention  the  mother  and  her 
child  until  they  are  necessary  to  conclude  the  incident  of  the 
threepenny-worth  of  rolls.  Scott  (pp.  22-23)  tells  how  Bruce  pre- 
pared the  ground  in  front  of  his  line,  and  how  he  posted  Ran- 
dolph, before  he  comes  to  the  battle  itself,  where  everything 
must  move  swiftly. 

In  plain  straightforward  narration  the  arrangement 
almost  takes  care  of  itself.  Stories  should  generally  be 
told  in  the  order  in  which  the  incidents  occurred,  —  that 
is,  they  should  follow  the  order  of  time.  This  natural  order 
should  not  be  violated  except  for  special  reasons.  A  story 
should  move  on  with  directness  and  force,  like  an  arrow 
to  the  mark.  A  narrator  who  is  continually  going  back 
to  pick  up  broken  threads  wearies  his  hearers  and  soon 
loses  their  attention ;  for  nobody  will  listen  long  to  any- 
thing that  confuses  his  mind. 

The  order  of  time  is  especially  important  in  narrative 
letters,  historical  and  biographical  sketches,  and  tales  of  travel 
or  adventure.  In  the  drama  it  is  absolutely  imperative.  The 
spectators  are  supposed  to  be  eyewitnesses.  If,  therefore, 
the  incidents  are  to  seem  real,  they  must  be  presented  as 

1  To  cohere  (Latin  cohaerere)  means  literally  "  1<>  stick  together." 


36  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

they  would  be  seen  by  eyewitnesses, —  namely,  in  the  order 
in  which  they  occurred  in  life.  In  a  novel,  on  the  contrary, 
certain  departures  from  the  natural  order  of  time  may  be 
necessary.  These  we  shall  study  presently,  when  we  take 
up  complication  of  plot  (p.  68). 

THE  POINT  OF  A  STORY 

Action  in  a  story  must  not  be  haphazard,  without  motive 
or  result.  The  story  must  have  some  point;  otherwise  there 
is  no  reason  for  telling  it.  Thus,  the  point  of  "  Moses  and 
the  Green  Spectacles"  (pp.  17-20)  is  the  trick  played  on 
Moses  by  the  sharper ;  that  of  Grey's  Australian  anecdote 
(pp.  27-29)  is  the  native's  superstitious  horror  of  eating 
mussels.  Omit  the  point  in  each  case,  and  the  story 
ceases  to  exist. 

If  you  express  in  a  sentence  the  point  of  any  of  the 
following  poems,  you  will  observe  that  your  phrase  or 
sentence  might  serve  as  a  title  for  the  poem  or  even  as  a 
summary  of  the  story  :  — 

"  Paul  Revere 's  Ride,"  by  Longfellow  ; 

"  Nauhaught  the  Deacon,"  by  Whittier  ; 

"  Lucy  Gray,"  by  Wordsworth  ; 

"The  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,"  by  Browning  ; 

"  The  Inchcape  Rock,"  by  Southey  ; 

"  The  Rising  in  76,"  by  T.  B.  Read  ; 

<<  Brier  Rose,"  by  H.  H.  Boyesen  ; 

»  One,  Two,  Three,"  by  H.  C.  Bunner ; 

"  Horatius  at  the  Bridge,"  by  Macaulay. 

Note.  — The  following  list  of  poems  will  afford  additional  material :  — 
Whittier's  "Mabel  Martin,"  "Abraham  Davenport,"  "In  School  Days," 
"Angels  of  Bnena  Vista";  Longfellow's  "Hiawatha"  (selections)  and 
"Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn";  Tennyson's  "  Enoch  Arden  "  ;  Browning's  "In- 
cident of  the  French  Camp  "  ;  Cowper's  "  John  Gilpin  "  and  "  Wreck  of  the 
Royal  George  "  ;  Jean  Ingelow's  "  High  Tide  on  the  Coast  of  Lincolnshire." 


THE   POINT  OF  A   STORY  37 

In  a  short  story,  then,  the  point  is  often  expressed  in 
the  title,  either  in  plain  terms  or  by  suggestion.  Examples 
are  Browning's  "  How  they  Brought  the  Good  News  from 
Ghent  to  Aix,"  Tennyson's  "Passing  of  Arthur,"  and 
Wordsworth's  "We  are  Seven."  So  in  a  novel,  the  titles 
of  the  several  chapters  may  serve  the  same  purpose,  since 
each  chapter  should  be  a  unit  and  have  a  point  of  its  own. 
In  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  for  instance,  the  last  chapter 
of  Book  II  is  entitled  "Drawn  to  the  Loadstone  Eock," 
and  the  concluding  chapter  of  the  work  is  called  "The 
Footsteps  Die  Out  Forever." 

Sometimes  the  point  of  a  story  is  announced  at  the 
outset  and  the  incidents  serve  merely  to  illustrate  or 
enforce  it.  Thus  the  point  of  Franklin's  account  of  his 
"First  Day  in  Philadelphia"  (p.  12)  is  his  poverty  and 
friendlessness  as  contrasted  with  his  eminence  in  later  life. 

Commonly,  however,  the  action  of  a  story  leads  up  to 
the  point,  which  is  not  disclosed  until  the  proper  moment 
arrives,  so  that  our  interest  is  kept  on  the  stretch  by  the 
suspense  in  which  we  are  held.  In  such  an  arrangement, 
the  incidents,  while  following  the  natural  order  of  time, 
appeal  more  and  more  strongly  to  the  reader  as  he  goes 
on,  until  the  interest  culminates,  or  reaches  its  highest 
pitch.  This  moment  of  highest  interest  is  called  the 
climax  of  the  story.  In  "Lochinvar"  (p.  20),  for  example, 
the  action  moves  with  a  rush  to  the  climax,  —  the  stealing 
away  of  the  bride.  In  "The  Ancient  Mariner  "  the  move- 
ment is  much  more  deliberate,  as  befits  the  character  of 
the  tale;  but  it  progresses  steadily  until  the  climax  is 
reached, — the  mariner's  blessing  the  water  snakes  and  his 
consequent  release  from  the  curse.  Note  also  how  "Rum- 
pelstiltskin "  (pp.  14-17)  observes  both  the  order  of  time 
and  the  principle  of  the  climax. 

136457 


38  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

An  admirably  told  anecdote  is  the  following,  from 
Trelawny's  "  Eecollections."  The  point  is  the  intense 
mental  concentration  of  which  Shelley  was  capable. 

I  called  on  him  [Shelley]  one  morning  at  ten ;  he  was  in  his 
study,  with  a  German  folio  open,  resting  on  the  broad  marble 
mantelpiece  over  an  old-fashioned  fireplace,  and  with  a  dictionary 
in  his  hand.  He  always  read  standing  if  possible.  He  had  prom- 
ised over  night  to  go  with  me,  but  now  begged  me  to  let  him  off. 
I  then  rode  to  Leghorn,  eleven  or  twelve  miles  distant,  and  passed 
the  day  there.  On  returning  at  six  in  the  evening  to  dine  with 
Mrs.  Shelley  and  the  Williamses  as  I  had  engaged  to  do,  I  went 
into  the  poet's  room  and  found  him  in  exactly  the  position  in  which 
I  had  left  him  in  the  morning,  but  looking  pale  and  exhausted. 

"  Well,"  I  said,  "  have  you  found  it?  " 

Shutting  the  book  and  going  to  the  window,  he  replied,  "  No, 
I  have  lost  it,"  with  a  deep  sigh.    "  I  have  lost  a  day." 

"  Cheer  up,  my  lad,  and  come  to  dinner." 

Putting  his  long  fingers  through  his  masses  of  wild,  tangled 
hair,  he  answered  faintly  :  "  You  go.  I  have  dined,  —  late  eat- 
ing does  n't  do  for  me." 

»  What  is  this?  "  I  asked,  as  I  was  going  out  of  the  room, 
pointing  to  one  of  his  bookshelves  with  a  plate  containing  bread 
and  cold  meat  on  it. 

"That?"  coloring,  "Why,  that  must  be  my  dinner!  It's  very 
foolish;  I  thought  I  had  eaten  it." 

The  student  will  observe  that  Trelawny's  anecdote 
might  seem  trivial  if  it  did  not  concern  a  person  whose 
mental  qualities  are  of  interest  to  the  world.  Yet,  trivial 
or  not,  it  would  remain  a  model  of  compact,  lively,  and 
pointed  narration. 

Stories  are  constructed  in  almost  every  conceivable 
fashion,  and  one  must  not  expect  to  devise  or  discover  a 
complete  and  satisfactory  formula  for  narration.  If,  for 
instance,  the  writer's  purpose  is  merely  to  delineate  char- 
acter in  action,  then  the  character  itself  may  be  the  point, 


SELECTION  OF  MATERIAL  39 

and  we  may  look  in  vain  for  a  marked  climax.  Then,  too, 
there  may  be  lulls  in  the  action,  or  several  incidents  may 
be  so  nearly  equal  in  interest  or  significance  that  a  defi- 
nite "ascending  series"  is  impossible.  In  general,  how- 
ever, it  is  clear  that  our  interest  must  be  maintained  and 
enhanced  as  the  story  proceeds ;  otherwise  we  shall  soon 
be  discouraged,  and  the  first  object  of  a  writer  —  to  have 
readers  —  will  be  defeated. 

SELECTION  OF  MATERIAL 

To  bring  out  the  point  of  a  story,  a  writer  must  select 
from  his  material :  in  other  words,  he  must  meet  the  question, 
"  What  incidents  shall  I  include  ? "  Common  sense  and 
daily  experience  immediately  suggest  the  answer. 

No  story  can  be  an  absolutely  complete  record  of  what 
happened.  A  full  account  of  your  thoughts  and  experi- 
ences for  a  single  day  would  fill  many  pages.  Yet  when 
you  consider  the  happenings  of  a  day  or  a  week  or  a  year, 
you  perceive  that  they  group  themselves  round  distinct 
incidents  which  have,  for  some  reason,  impressed  them- 
selves on  your  memory.  If  these  are  made  clear,  the 
imagination  supplies   many  of  the  connecting  links. 

"Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles"  (pp.  17-20)  covers  an 
entire  day.  To  tell  all  that  happened  in  that  time  would  make 
a  large  and  very  stupid  book,  which  nobody  could  read.  Gold- 
smith has  accounted  for  the  whole  day  by  selecting  a  number  of 
significant  incidents  and  arranging  them  in  a  natural  order. 

Franklin's  account  of  his  "  First  Day  in  Philadelphia  "  (p.  V2) 
is  a  plain,  straightforward  story;  yet,  simple  as  it  is,  it  is  told 
with  great  skill.  Every  fact  counts  for  something.  Franklin's 
stuffed  pockets  show  how  unpromising  a  figure  he  cut  for  one 
who  was  to  be  a  successful  man  ;  his  scanty  supply  of  money  indi- 
cates the  humble  beginning  of  his  fortunes  ;  the  puffiness  of  the 


40  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

rolls  brings  out  the  whole  grotesque  picture  vividly.  Not  one  of 
these  points  could  be  omitted  without  loss.  Yet  Franklin  did 
actually  leave  out  many  other  facts  in  order  to  make  his  story 
clear  and  vivid.  He  says  nothing  of  the  weather,  nothing  of 
the  appearance  of  the  streets  and  houses,  or  of  mud  or  dust  or 
distance,  —  nothing  of  a  hundred  things  that  may  well  have  risen 
in  his  memory  while  he  was  writing.  It  is  largely  Franklin's 
skilful  choice  of  material  that  makes  his  "  Autobiography  "  so 
interesting.  He  knew  what  to  put  in  and  what  to  leave  out;  and 
he  could  tell  a  plain  tale  in  a  straightforward  and  forcible  style. 
Sir  Walter  Scott's  "Battle  of  Bannockburn  "  (pp.  22-26) 
illustrates  in  another  way  this  art  of  selecting  material  in  order 
to  bring  out  the  main  point.  Scott  is  writing  history,  —  that  is, 
he  is  telling  the  story  of  an  event  which  had  far-reaching  conse- 
quences. He  includes  a  number  of  details,  — the  "  gallant  show  " 
of  the  English  army,  the  multitude  of  their  flags,  what  Bruce 
said  to  his  nephew,  Randolph,  —  all  trifling  in  themselves,  but 
serving  to  make  the  scene  real  to  us  as  we  read.  Not  for  a 
moment,  however,  does  he  distract  our  attention  from  the  main 
point  of  his  narrative,  —  the  great  battle  that  changed  the  fate 
of  Scotland.  For  the  details  are  not  taken  at  random  ;  they  are 
selected  with  the  nicest  care  from  many  circumstances  that  might 
have  been  mentioned.  Scott,  then,  had  mastered  this  great  prin- 
ciple of  narration  :  he  knew  how  to  select  his  material. 

These  three  examples  show  how  much  skill  is  required, 
even  in  the  case  of  a  simple  story,  to  decide  what  to  leave 
out  and  what  to  put  in.  In  short,  selection  of  material  is 
essential  to  the  art  of  narration. 

Every  story  must  have  its  own  selection  of  material.  Those 
very  details  of  weather,  mud,  dust,  and  so  on,  which 
Franklin  —  for  good  reasons  —  refrained  from  mentioning 
in  his  "  First  Day  in  Philadelphia,"  might  —  for  reasons 
equally  good  —  appear  in  another  story,  told  for  a  differ- 
ent purpose  or  intended  to  produce  a  different  effect. 

Proportion  and  emphasis  in  narration  depend  in  great 
measure  on  skilful  selection  of  material.  Take,  for  example, 


PROPORTION    AND   EMPHASIS  41 

such  a  story  of  adventure  as  Dana's  "  Two  Years  Before 
the  Mast."  This  consists,  in  the  main,  of  a  series  of  inci- 
dents,—  passing  the  iceberg  (p.  91);  the  long,  bitter 
storm  off  Cape  Horn  ;  the  hard  labor  of  packing  the  hides 
into  the  hold  on  the  Californian  coast,  and  so  on.  Whole 
stretches  of  the  voyage  are  run  together  into  a  single 
paragraph ;  and  then  the  account  of  what  happened  in  an 
hour  or  two  is  spread  out  over  several  pages. 

De  Foe  follows  the  same  natural  method  in  "  Robinson 
Crusoe."  One  of  his  extracts  from  Crusoe's  journal,  for 
example,  reads  as  follows :  — 

From  the  1st  of  October  to  the  24th.  — All  these  days  entirely 
spent  in  many  several  voyages  to  get  all  I  could  out  of  the  ship, 
which  I  brought  on  shore,  every  tide  of  flood,  upon  rafts.  Much 
rain  also  in  these  days,  though  with  some  intervals  of  fair  weather ; 
but,  it  seems,  this  was  the  rainy  season. 

A  little  farther  on,  De  Foe  gives  several  pages  to  the 
earthquake  and  its  consequences,  —  events  which  took 
place  almost  instantaneously. 

We  should  apply  the  same  principles  in  our  own 
composition.  Suppose  we  are  to  write  the  story  of  a 
bunting  trip.  Everything  that  happened  on  the  expe- 
dition was  doubtless  "  good  fun " ;  but  shooting  the 
rapids  was  more  exciting  than  a  long  paddle  in  the  teeth 
of  the  wind,  and  an  account  of  how  we  stalked  a  deer 
can  probably  be  made  more  interesting  than  a  descrip- 
tion of  an  all-day  tramp  through  the  woods.  If,  then,  we 
select  a  few  striking  incidents,  we  can  give  a  clearer  im- 
pression <>f  the  whole  trip  than  by  boring  our  readers 
with  an  exhaustive  journal.  These  incidents,  however, 
have  to  be  bound  together  in  some  way,  in  order  to  make 
the  story  continuous,  and  for  this  purpose  we  can  use 
more  summary  accounts  of  how  we  passed   our  time  in 


42  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

the  intervals  between  the  main  events.  Some  description 
of  our  life  in  camp,  or  of  the  country,  or  even  of  the 
weather,  will  also  be  available  as  binding  material.  Thus 
De  Foe  every  now  and  then  brings  in  a  short  account  of 
Crusoe's  mode  of  life,  or  a  list  of  articles  saved  from  the 
ship,  or  a  description  of  the  seasons  in  the  island.  Inci- 
dentally, such  things  help  to  make  a  story  more  vivid  or, 
as  we  sometimes  say,  more  real. 

Several  objects,  then,  are  gained  or  furthered  by  skilful 
selection  of  material  in  narration,  —  clearness,  coherence,  pro- 
portion, and  proper  emphasis  upon  the  point  of  the  story. 


THE  INTRODUCTION  IN  NARRATION 

When  you  have  outlined  your  story,  —  that  is,  have 
selected  and  arranged  the  incidents,  —  and  when  you  have 
the  action  clearly  in  mind,  you  have  gone  at  least  halfway. 
In  actual  composition,  however,  you  are  confronted  with 
the  question,  "  How  shall  the  story  begin  ? " 

Many  stories  begin  with  a  brief  introduction,  naming  and 
describing  the  characters,  telling  where  the  scene  is  laid, 
or  giving  some  other  information  which  the  reader  needs. 

In  Franklin's  "First  Day  in  Philadelphia  "  (p.  12),  the  first 
paragraph  explains  the  author's  purpose  in  telling  the  story 
aud  describes  his  appearance  and  condition  at  the  beginning  of 
the  day. 

In  "  The  Battle  of  Bannockburn  "  (p.  22),  the  first  two  para- 
graphs tell  what  we  need  to  know  about  the  forces  on  each  side. 

In  Tennyson's  "  Gareth  and  Lynette,"  the  introduction  is  a 
scene  between  Gareth  and  his  mother,  showing  how  he  is  fretting 
his  soul  away  because  she  will  not  let  him  go  to  King  Arthur's 
court.  The  condition  on  which  she  finally  gives  her  consent  deter- 
mines the  whole  character  of  the  story  by  bringing  down  Lynette 's 
scorn  upon  him  as  a  "kitchen  knave." 


THE  INTRODUCTION  IN  NARRATION  43 

The  introduction  in  a  story  often  furnishes  the  local 
or  historical  setting.  "  Ivanhoe "  begins  with  two  pages 
explaining  the  relations  between  "  the  descendants  of  the 
victor  Normans  and  the  vanquished  Saxons,"  on  which 
the  plot  of  the  novel  is  to  turn.  Then  comes  the  famous 
description  of  Gurth  and  Waniba  in  the  forest,  which 
tells  us  how  the  people  of  those  times  dressed  and  looked 
and  talked.  The  first  chapter  of  Mrs.  Gaskell's  "Cran- 
ford"  is  entitled  "Our  Society."  It  gives  a  wonder- 
fully vivid  description  —  full  of  humor  and  action  —  of 
social  life  in  the  little  old-fashioned  village  and  of  such  of 
the  leading  characters  as  we  need  to  know  at  the  outset. 
The  introduction1  to  "Gulliver's  Travels"  consists  in  a 
short  passage  of  very  concise  and  matter-of-fact  autobiog- 
raphy. Its  purpose  is  merely  to  start  the  reader  on  the 
story  with  a  strong  impression  that  Captain  Lemuel  Gul- 
liver was  a  real  person  and  that  his  adventures  actually 
took  place. 

Sometimes  the  introduction  serves  a  less  tangible  pur- 
pose, and  is  intended  rather  to  fix  the  mood  or  atmosphere 
of  the  book.  "  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables  "  has  an 
introduction  of  this  character.  Hawthorne  tells  the  story 
of  the  Pyncheons  and  of  their  strange  house  in  such  a  way 
as  to  make  us  feel  that  there  is  something  uncanny  about 
the  old  building,  —  some  vague  mystery  which  haunts  it 
and  the  family  to  whom  it  belongs.  He  mentions  also  the 
legends  that  were  whispered  among  the  neighbors, — 
rumors  of  doubtful  rights  in  the  holders  of  the  property 
and  of  a  curse  which  was  said  to  hang  over  them. 

i  That  is,  the  introduction  proper  (in  Chapter  i  <>r  "A  Voyage  to  Lilli- 
put").  There  is  Other  preliminary  mailer  (a  pretended  letter  from  the 
publisher  and  a  letter  from  Gulliver  to  his  cousin)  which  has  the  same  end 

in  view. 


44  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

A  story  often  begins,  so  to  speak,  in  the  middle.  The 
first  sentence  may  introduce  us  to  the  characters  in 
action  or  in  the  midst  of  an  exciting  conversation.  This 
method  has  the  advantage  of  rousing  the  reader's  interest 
at  the  outset.  "Lochinvar"  (p.  20),  for  example,  begins 
with  the  hero's  ride  "  out  of  the  West,"  without  explaining 
who  Lochinvar  and  the  bride  are  or  describing  the  circum- 
stances at  all. 

In  such  cases,  explanatory  matter,  if  it  is  needed,  may 
come  in  later,  when  the  opening  scene  has  been  concluded. 

Thus,  in  Shakspere's  "  Julius  Caesar,"  the  first  scene  shows  us 
the  Roman  workmen  making  riotous  holiday,  and  the  magistrates 
rebuking  them.  It  is  not  until  the  second  scene  that  we  learn 
the  real  subject  of  the  drama, — -the  plot  against  Caesar  and  its 
results.  In  "Macbeth,"  the  first  scene,  which  is  very  short, 
brings  in  the  Weird  Sisters,  who  are  speaking  of  Macbeth.  Who 
Macbeth  is,  and  what  has  been  going  on  in  Scotland,  we  learn 
from  scene  2.  So  in  "Lochinvar"  (p.  21),  the  fourth  stanza 
explains  (very  briefly)  all  that  we  need  to  know  of  the  previous 
history  of  Lochinvar  and  the  bride.  "Silas  Marner  "  begins 
with  a  description  of  Silas  at  Raveloe,  and  then  goes  back  fifteen 
years  to  tell  of  his  life  in  the  factory  town  and  the  events  that 
brought  him  to  Raveloe. 

You  will  often  be  surprised  to  see  how  small  a  quantity 
of  explanatory  matter  is  really  needed  to  make  a  story 
intelligible.  The  less  explanation  you  have  to  bring  in,  the 
more  interesting  the  story  will  probably  be.  Something 
may  safely  be  trusted  to  the  imagination,  —  more,  indeed, 
than  you  would  at  first  suppose.  Notice  how  needless  an 
introduction  would  be  in  "  Eumpelstiltskin  "  (p.  14). 

We  should  not  infer,  therefore,  that  there  is  "  one  best 
way"  to  begin  a  story.  Sometimes  an  introduction  is 
necessary ;  sometimes,  though  not  strictly  necessary,  it  is 
desirable  for  one  reason  or  another ;  sometimes  it  is  quite 


THE  INTRODUCTION  IN   NARRATION  45 

superfluous,  and  the  story  would  be  better  without  it. 
There  is  no  general  rule.  Everything  depends  upon  the 
circumstances,  on  the  length  and  character  of  the  story, 
and  on  the  effect  which  the  author  wishes  to  produce. 

Four  examples  will  make  this  clear.  They  are  taken 
from  a  single  collection  of  short  stories  by  a  skilful  writer.1 
In  the  first  case,  we  have  a  brief  introduction  describing 
the  scene  and  then  explaining  the  circumstances ;  in 
the  second,  a  single  explanatory  sentence  is  followed  by 
description ;  in  the  third  and  fourth,  the  story  begins 
without  any  preliminary  remarks,  —  in  one  instance  with 
action,  in  the  other  with  conversation. 

1.  On  Christinas  eve  the  Mayor's  stately  mansion  presented  a 
beautiful  appearance.  There  were  rows  of  different-colored  wax 
candles  burning  in  every  window,  and  beyond  them  one  could  see 
the  chandeliers  of  gold  and  crystal  blazing  with  light.  The  fiddles 
were  squeaking  merrily,  and  lovely  little  forms  flew  past  the 
windows  in  time  to  the  music. 

There  were  gorgeous  carpets  laid  from  the  door  to  the  street, 
and  carriages  were  constantly  arriving,  and  fresh  guests  tripping 
over  them.  They  were  all  children.  The  Mayor  was  giving  a 
Christmas  masquerade  to-night,  to  all  the  children  in  the  city,  the 
poor  as  well  as  the  rich.  The  preparation  for  this  ball  had  been 
making  an  immense  sensation  for  the  last  three  months.  Placards 
had  been  up  in  the  most  conspicuous  points  in  the  city,  and  all 
the  daily  newspapers  had  at  least  a  column  devoted  to  it,  headed 
with  "The  Mayor's  Christmas  Masquerade  "  in  very  large  letters. 

2.  Dame  Clementina  was  in  her  dairy,  churning,  and  her  little 
daughter  Nan  was  out  in  the  flower  garden.  The  flower  garden 
was  a  little  plot  back  of  the  cottage,  full  of  all  the  sweet  old- 
fashioned  herbs.  There  were  sweet  marjoram,  sage,  summer 
savory,  lavender,  and  ever  so  many  others.  Up  in  one  corner, 
there  was  a  little  green  lied  of  dill. 

Nan  was  a  dainty,  slim  little  maiden,  with  yellow,  flossy  hair 
in  shorts  curls  all  over  her  head.    Her  eyes  were  very  sweet  and 

1  "The  Pot  of  Gold  and  Other  Stories,"  by  Mary  E.  Wilkins  (Boston, 
Lothrop,  Lee  &  Shepard  Company). 


46  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

round  and  blue,  and  she  wore  a  quaint  little  snuff-colored  gown. 
It  had  a  short  full  waist,  with  low  neck  and  puffed  sleeves,  and 
the  skirt  was  straight  and  narrow  and  down  to  her  little  heels. 

3.  Patience  Mather  was  saying  the  seven  multiplication  table, 
when  she  heard  a  heavy  step  in  the  entry. 

"  That  is  Squire  Bean,"  whispered  her  friend,  Martha  Joy,  who 
stood  at  her  elbow. 

Patience  stopped  short  in  horror.  Her  especial  bugbear  in 
mathematics  was  eight-times-seven.  She  was  coming  toward  it  fast 
—  could  she  remember  it,  with  old  Squire  Bean  looking  at  her  ? 

4.  "  Margery,"  said  her  mother,  "  take  the  pitcher  now,  and 
fetch  me  some  fresh,  cool  water  from  the  well,  and  I  will  cook 
the  porridge  for  supper." 

"  Yes,  mother,"  said  Margery.  Then  she  put  on  her  little  white 
dimity  hood,  and  got  the  pitcher,  which  was  charmingly  shaped, 
from  the  cupboard  shelf. 

In  revising  a  story  after  you  have  written  it,  you  will 
often  discover  that  the  introduction  contains  certain  details 
which  the  reader  does  not  need  to  know  at  the  outset,  and 
which  will  inevitably  suggest  themselves  to  him  as  he 
proceeds.  When  this  is  the  case,  the  introduction  should 
be  cut  down.  Perhaps  you  can  even  get  rid  of  it  altogether 
by  working  what  is  left  into  the  body  of  the  story.  If, 
however,  you  decide  that  the  preliminary  matter  is  neces- 
sary for  clearness,  you  should  certainly  let  it  stand,  par- 
ticularly if  it  is  interesting  in  itself. 

Whatever  the  purpose  or  value  of  the  introduction,  it  should 
not  be  too  long.     Do  not  make  the  porch  larger  than  the  house. 

THE  CONCLUSION  IN  NARRATION 

In  writing  a  story,  as  we  have  seen,  one  must  ordinarily 
have  in  mind  a  definite  climax,  to  which  the  incidents 
should  lead  up.1    Thus,  in  "  Rumpelstiltskin "  (p.  14),  the 

i  See  p.  37. 


THE   CONCLUSION   IN  NARRATION  47 

whole  tale  leads  up  to  the  utterance  of  the  uncanny 
creature's  name.  In  Browning's  "  Incident  of  the  French 
Camp,"  the  climax  is  the  boy's  cry,  "Nay,  I'm  killed, 
sire!"  In  Kipling's  "Jungle  Book,"  the  story  of  "  Kaa's 
Hunting  "  reaches  its  climax  in  the  rescue  of  Mowgli. 

This  suggests  the  answer  to  a  question  that  often  causes 
trouble :  "  How  shall  a  story  close  ?  "  The  difficulty  varies 
with  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  the  manner  of  treatment. 
A  very  brief  anecdote  usually  ends  with  the  point  for 
the  sake  of  which  it  is  told  ;  for,  when  this  has  been  clearly 
brought  out,  there  is  nothing  to  be  added.  Trelawny's 
anecdote  of  Shelley  (p.  38)  closes  in  this  manner.  If,  on 
the  other  hand,  after  the  point  has  been  reached,  we  find  it 
necessary  to  add  a  lengthy  explanation,  we  may  be  sure 
that  we  have  not  told  our  tale  skilfully.  In  that  case, 
we  have  to  consider  not  how  to  conclude,  but  how  to 
reconstruct  the  whole  story  so  that  it  shall  end  naturally 
when  the  proper  moment  arrives. 

Even  in  a  short  story,  however,  the  climax,  though  it 
marks  the  height  of  the  interest,  may  not  make  a  natural 
conclusion.  Thus,  in  "  Eumpelstiltskin  "  (p.  14),  the  climax 
is  the  queen's  utterance  of  the  goblin's  name  ;  but  to  close 
with  this  would  leave  the  reader  unsatisfied,  —  he  would 
be  sure  to  ask  what  the  result  was,  — "  What  happened 
then  ? "  Accordingly,  there  is  a  brief  additional  paragraph 
which  brings  the  whole  adventure  to  a  satisfactory  end. 

A  more  elaborate  conclusion  is  that  of  living's  "  Kip 
Van  Winkle."  Here  the  climax  is  reached  when  the 
old  woman  recognizes  Eip:  —  "Sure  enough!  it  is  Kip 
Van  Winkle,  —  it  is  himself  !  Welcome  home  again,  old 
neighbor !  Why,  where  have  you  been  these  twenty  long 
years?"  But  it  takes  a  couple  of  pages  to  finish  the  story. 
Similarly,"  The  Legend  of  Sleepy  Hollow  "  does  not  end 


48  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

when  the  goblin  rider  hurls  his  head  at  Ichabod  Crane. 
Two  or  three  additional  pages  are  needed  to  suggest  an 
explanation  of  the  affair  and  to  dismiss  the  characters 
properly.  A  conclusion  of  this  kind  is  sometimes  called 
the  resolution,  —  that  is,  the  "  solution  "  or  "  clearing-up." 

Whether  a  story  shall  end  with  the  climax  or  not, 
depends  altogether  on  circumstances  and  on  the  author's 
intention.1  Now  and  then  a  tale  is  constructed  for  the 
express  purpose  of  piquing  our  curiosity  and  leaving  it 
unsatisfied.  A  familiar  example  is  Mr.  Frank  Stockton's 
story  of  "  The  Lady  or  the  Tiger  ? "  In  such  cases  every 
reader  is  at  liberty  to  make  a  conclusion  for  himself  —  if 
he  can.  Usually,  however,  except  in  the  briefest  anec- 
dotes, there  is  something  to  be  said  after  the  climax  has 
been  reached.  The  upshot  of  the  matter  may  need  to  be 
told,  or  certain  characters  may  have  to  be  disposed  of. 
An  author  should  not  leave  his  work  at  loose  ends. 

In  a  narrative  meant  to  convey  information,  to  explain 
something,  or  to  prove  a  statement  or  principle,  a  more 
formal  conclusion  may  be  necessary.2  This  may  consist 
of  a  paragraph  or  two  setting  forth  the  object  or  result  of 
the  whole,  or  reciting  the  proposition  that  has  been  proved. 
Such  a  paragraph  forms  either  an  explanatory  or  a  logical 
conclusion.  Thus  Scott,  at  the  end  of  his  account  of  the 
Battle  of  Bannockburn  (p.  26),  devotes  two  short  para- 
graphs to  showing  the  results  of  the  battle  on  the  history 
of  Scotland  and  England. 

Above  all  things,  one  should  avoid  the  practice  of  clos- 
ing with  a  flowery  sentence,  a  commonplace  moral,  a 
feeble  bit  of  sentiment,  or  a  hackneyed  formula  like  "  We 
reached  home,  tired  but  well  satisfied "  or  "  just  in  time 

i  Compare  what  has  been  said  of  the  introduction  (p.  45). 

2  Such  narratives  are  closely  related  to  exposition  and  argument. 


THE   POINT  OF  VIEW  49 

for  a  hearty  dinner."  The  conclusion  ought  to  seem 
natural  and  inevitable.  Otherwise  it  is  usually  better  to 
stop  when  you  get  through,  even  at  the  risk  of  a  little 
abruptness.  In  a  letter,  however,  an  abrupt  ending  may 
suggest  discourtesy  and  thus  give  a  false  impression  of 
the  writer. 

In  a  novel  or  long  story,  the  conclusion  usually  requires 
at  least  a  whole  chapter.  There  are  more  characters  to  be 
dismissed  than  in  a  short  story,  and  more  complications 
to  be  cleared  up.  Besides,  since  the  reader  has  come  to 
regard  the  chief  personages  as  old  friends,  he  wishes  to 
learn  something  of  their  future  life  and  fortunes. 

THE  POINT  OF  VIEW 

Before  beginning  a  story,  a  writer  must  decide  from 
whose  point  of  view  it  is  to  be  told.  He  has  his  choice 
among  several  methods. 

(1)  The  story  may  be  told  in  the  first  person,  as  if  the 
hero  were  relating  his  own  experiences. 

"  Robinson  Crusoe,"  "  Gulliver's  Travels,"  and  Stevenson's 
"  Treasure  Island  "  are  told  in  the  first  person.  This  gives  them  the 
air  of  belonging  to  the  large  class  of  true  stories  of  travel,  adven- 
ture, and  discovery.  The  appearance  of  egotism,  which  is  one  of 
the  risks  of  using  the  first  person,  is  often  avoided  by  making  the 
supposed  narrator  play  only  a  subordinate  part  in  the  tale,  like 
Mr.  Mackellax's  in  "The  Master  of  Ballantrae  "  or  Dr.  Watson's 
in  "  Sherlock  Holmes."  Sometimes  he  is  a  mere  looker-on,  who 
knows  the  characters  and  reports  what  they  have  told  him  of 
their  adventures.    This  is  a  favorite  device  with  Mr.  Kipling. 

(2)  The  story  may  be  told  by  the  hero  in  the  third  person, 
as  if,  though  writing  an  autobiography,  \u>  did  not  like  to 
use  the  pronoun  /.  Thackeray's  "Henry  Esmond"  is  a 
famous  example. 


50  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

The  full  title  is :  "  The  History  of  Henry  Esmond,  Esq.,  a 
Colonel  in  the  Service  of  Her  Majesty  Queen  Anne.  Written  by 
Himself."  Esmond  speaks  of  himself  in  the  third  person,  except 
in  the  titles  of  the  chapters.  Now  and  then,  however,  he  drops 
the  mask  —  as  would  be  natural  —  and  says  "  I,"  and  the  con- 
cluding pages  are  written  in  the  first  person  throughout. 

(3)  The  story  may  be  told,  in  the  third  person,  by  the 
author  himself,  from  his  own  point  of  view,  as  if  he  were 
an  historian.  In  this  case  he  commonly  assumes  that  he 
knows  everything  about  his  characters,  and  does  not  hesi- 
tate to  record  what  they  thought  and  how  they  felt,  as  well 
as  what  they  said  and  did.  Hence  this  method  is  sometimes 
called  "  telling  a  story  from  the  omniscient  point  of  view." 

"A  Tale  of  Two  Cities,"  like  Dickens's  other  novels,  is  written 
in  the  third  person  from  the  omniscient  point  of  view.  It  de- 
scribes the  thoughts  and  feelings  of  all  the  actors  in  a  way  that 
would  be  impossible  for  a  mere  looker-on,  or  even  for  any  single 
one  of  the  actors  themselves.  George  Eliot's  "  Silas  Marner  "  is 
a  still  more  striking  example  of  this  method  ;  for  much  .of  its 
interest  comes  from  the  subtlety  with  which  the  author  discusses 
and  analyzes  motives  and  traits  of  character. 

(4)  The  story  may  be  told  in  the  third  person,  from  the 
point  of  view  of  an  imaginary  narrator  who  has  no  share 
in  the  action. 

Thus,  in  the  "  Canterbury  Tales,"  Chaucer  represents  the  sev- 
eral pilgrims  (the  Knight,  the  Squire,  the  Doctor,  and  so  on)  as 
telling,  in  the  third  person,  stories  which  they  have  heard  but  in 
which  they  play  no  part.  Longfellow  uses  the  same  device  in  his 
"  Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn,"  and  Whittier  in  "  The  Tent  on  the 
Beach." 

Of  the  four  methods  just  described,  only  the  first  and 
the  third  are  likely  to  be  used  by  young  writers.  Each 
of  these  two  methods  has  its  advantages  and  its  draw- 
backs.    If  you  put  yourself  in  the  place  of  one  of  the 


THE  POINT  OF   VIEW  51 

characters  in  your  story,  and  tell  it  in  the  first  person, 
your  imagination  is  stimulated.  The  incidents  become 
more  real  to  you,  and  you  are  therefore  more  likely  to 
select  them  wisely,  to  keep  track  of  them,  and  to  make 
them  lead  up  directly  and  forcibly  to  the  point  that  you 
wish  to  bring  out.  You  have  also  a  keener  sense  of  time 
and  place  and  circumstance,  so  that  you  unconsciously 
add  many  touches  of  action  and  description  which  lend 
life  and  color  to  the  whole.  Historians  recognize  all  these 
advantages  when  they  insert  extracts  from  letters,  orations, 
and  other  documents  written  by  the  actors  themselves. 
So,  in  stories  told  in  the  third  person,  much  conversation 
is  introduced,  in  order  that  the  characters  may  speak  for 
themselves. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  one  character  in  any  but  the 
simplest  story  can  have  personal  knowledge  of  everything 
that  occurred.  He  must  learn  some  of  the  facts  from  the 
other  actors.  Stories  told  in  the  first  person,  therefore, 
require  careful  management  in  this  particular.  If  the  "I" 
of  your  story  knows  about  anything  that  happened  in  Iris 
absence,  you  must  show  how  he  got  his  information.  You 
must  not  let  him  appear  to  be  a  supernatural  creature, 
able  to  be  in  two  places  at  the  same  time. 

Note.  —  Novelists  occasionally  get  over  this  difficulty  by  making  each 
of  several  characters  tell  that  part  of  the  story  which  he  might  naturally 
know.  So,  for  instance,  Wilkie  Collins  in  "The  Moonstone,"  and  Steven- 
son (to  some  extent)  in  "The  Master  of  Ballantrae." 

It  should  be  remembered  that  the  adoption  of  a  partic- 
ular point  of  view  is  wholly  a  matter  of  convenience  and 
expediency.  If  you  can  make  a  story  more  vivid  and 
interesting  by  writing  in  the  first  person,  then  use  that 
device.  If,  on  the  other  hand,  the  story  is  such  that  no 
one  character  could  naturally  have  known  about  all  the 


52  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

events  which  it  narrates,  then  it  would  be  absurd  to  twist 
and  injure  the  plot  merely  in  order  to  write  in  the  first 
person.  In  such  a  case,  the  third  person  is  manifestly 
better  suited  to  the  purpose. 

Finally,  when  you  have  once  decided  on  a  point  of  view,  you 
should  stick  to  it.  Vacillation  or  unsteadiness  in  this  re- 
spect is  a  very  serious  fault.  On  the  other  hand,  a  writer 
who  selects  his  point  of  view  wisely,  and  maintains  it  with 
firmness  and  precision,  adds  much  to  the  power  of  his  story. 
"  The  Ancient  Mariner  "  is  a  striking  example  of  tins  truth. 

SETTING  OR  BACKGROUND 

We  have  seen  that  the  introduction  of  a  story  is  often 
used  to  make  clear  the  setting  or  background  of  the  inci- 
dents.1 This  setting  or  background  includes  far  more  than 
a  mere  statement  of  place  and  time.  In  many  stories  it 
is  of  great  importance,  especially  in  tales  or  novels  which 
attempt  to  reproduce  the  life  of  a  bygone  age.  Events 
and  persons  always  become  more  real  to  us  if  we  feel 
familiar  with  the  surroundings  or,  as  we  say,  the  environ- 
ment. For  this  reason,  almost  all  stories  of  any  length 
must  include  a  certain  amount  of  description.  The  general 
principles  of  description  will  be  discussed  in  the  next 
chapter;  meanwhile,  the  following  suggestions  will  be 
of  use. 

Descriptions  in  narration  should  be  brief.  Some  stories, 
especially  short  anecdotes,  get  along  very  well  with  no 
description  to  speak  of ;  and  we  all  know  from  experience 
how  often  long  descriptions  in  a  story  are  skipped. 

The  description  should  include  movements  and  sounds, 
as  well  as  objects  of  sight.    Note  how  much  is  contained 

i  See  p.  43. 


SETTING   OR   BACKGROUND  53 

in  the  following  stanza  from  Coleridge's  "Rime  of  the 
Ancient  Mariner  "  :  — 

It  ceased  ;  yet  still  the  sails  made  on 
A  pleasant  noise  till  noon,  — 
A  noise  like  of  a  hidden  brook 
In  the  leafy  month  of  June, 
That  to  the  sleeping  woods  all  night 
Singeth  a  quiet  tune. 

Kipling  describes  a  bulldog  following  a  carriage  as  "  roll- 
ing in  his  run,  and  smiling  as  a  bulldog  will " ;  and  Gold- 
smith, describing  a  scene  at  night,  writes  of  a  dog's  "  bark 
at  hollow  distance."  Hints  or  suggestions  of  this  kind, 
conveyed  in  a  well-chosen  word  or  phrase,  are  often  far 
more  effective  than  more  elaborate  descriptive  passages. 
Observe  the  expressiveness  of  the  italicized  words  in  the 
passages  that  follow  :  — 

By  a  sudden  blaze  which  sprang  up  from  a  fall  of  unstirred 
coals,  I  saw  that  her  eyes  were  full  of  tears.  —  Mrs.  Gaskell. 

He  was  in  deep  thought,  and  the  birds  seemed  to  know  it, 
trotting  quite  near  him  on  the  sand,  or  wheeling  and  calling  in  his 
ears.  —  Stevenson. 

The  two  gentlemen  passed  in  that  way,  treading  as  lightly  as 
they  could,  and  so  going  through  the  passage  into  the  court,  over 
which  the  dawn  was  now  reddening,  and  where  the  fountain 
plashed  in  the  silence.  —  Thackeray. 

I  saw  Shaw  and  Henry  descending  the  hollow  on  the  right  at 
a  leisurely  gallop  ;  and  in  front  the  buffalo  were  just  disappear- 
ing behind  the  crest  of  the  next  hill,  their  short  tails  erect,  and 
their  hoofs  twinkling  through  a  cloud  of  dust.  —  Pakkman. 

The  description  in  a  story  should,  so  far  as  possible,  be 
combined  with  the  action,  just  as,  in  real  life,  we  note  the 
appearance  of  persons  and  objects  while  we  are  doing 
something  ourselves.  A  good  example  is  the  following 
passage  from  Borrow.    The  author  represents  himself  as 


54  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

having  alighted  from  a  stagecoach,  shortly  before  dawn, 
in  an  unfamiliar  village. 

After  standing  still  a  minute  or  two,  considering  what  I  should 
do,  I  moved  down  what  appeared  to  be  the  street  of  a  small 
straggling  town ;  presently  I  passed  by  a  church,  which  rose 
indistinctly  on  my  right  hand  ;  anon  there  was  the  rustling  of 
foliage  and  the  rushing  of  waters.  I  reached  a  bridge,  beneath 
which  a  small  stream  was  running  in  the  direction  of  the  south. 
I  stopped  and  leaned  over  the  parapet,  for  I  have  always  loved  to 
look  upon  streams,  especially  at  the  still  hours.  "  What  stream  is 
this,  I  wonder?  "  said  I,  as  I  looked  down  from  the  parapet  into 
the  water,  which  whirled  and  gurgled  below. 

Here  the  movement  of  the  story  is  not  interrupted. 
What  description  is  necessary  is  mingled  so  naturally 
and  effectively  with  the  action  that  the  two  can  hardly 
be  distinguished. 

In  some  stories,  especially  those  of  out-of-door  life, 
our  chief  interest  may  be  in  places  and  animals  and 
weather.  In  this  case,  the  space  given  to  description 
will  naturally  be  larger.  Such  stories,  however,  may 
easily  become  descriptions  unless  the  action  clearly  pre- 
ponderates. In  such  a  book  as  Stevenson's  "  Travels  with 
a  Donkey,"  which  is  an  account  of  a  camping  trip  that 
the  author  made  in  the  mountains  of  France,  it  is  often 
hard  to  say  whether  a  given  chapter  is  narrative  or  de- 
scriptive ;  and  the  distinction  is  unimportant  so  long  as 
the  book  holds  our  interest.  The  same  is  true  of  Thoreau's 
"  Walden  "  and  "  Maine  Woods." 

In  some  stories  the  setting  is  of  paramount  importance, 
since  it  determines  the  atmosphere  or  tone  of  the  whole 
book.  This  effect  is  especially  striking  in  the  case  of 
Hawthorne,  who  is  unsurpassed  in  the  art  of  making  an 
invisible  and  intangible  influence  dominate  a  whole  story. 


SETTIXG  OR   BACKGROUND  55 

In  "  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables,"  for  example,  the  crime 
of  Colonel  Pyncheon  and  the  curse  uttered  by  the  wizard  Maule 
on  the  scaffold  hang  over  the  house  and  the  fortunes  of  its 
inmates.  Hawthorne  nowhere  asserts  the  truth  or  the  reality  of 
this  influence  ;  but  by  constantly  repeating  the  whispers  and 
rumors  of  the  superstitious  neighbors  he  contrives  to  surround 
his  story  with  an  atmosphere  of  mystery.  Hepzibah  and  Phoebe, 
Holgrave  and  Judge  Pyncheon,  are  all  figures  of  the  everyday 
world  of  Salem  in  the  middle  of  the  nineteenth  century.  But  the 
story,  as  Hawthorne  says,  is  "  a  legend,  prolonging  itself,  from  an 
epoch  now  gray  in  the  distance,  down  into  our  own  broad  day- 
light, and  bringing  along  with  it  some  of  its  legendary  mist, 
which  the  reader,  according  to  his  pleasure,  may  either  disregard, 
or  allow  to  float  almost  imperceptibly  about  the  characters  and 
events  for  the  sake  of  a  picturesque  effect."  The  strange  charm 
of  the  book  depends  chiefly  on  this  "  legendary  mist,"  that  is,  it 
comes  rather  from  the  setting  than  from  the  action. 

So  again,  though  in  a  different  way,  the  setting  of  "  A  Tale  of 
Two  Cities  "  dominates  the  story.  Here  the  action  is  far  more 
important  than  in  "  The  House  of  the  Seven  Gables,"  yet  it  is 
colored  and  intensified  throughout  by  the  horrors  of  the  French 
Revolution.  Dickens  describes  the  oppression  which  drove  the 
peasants  and  workpeople  to  desperation,  and  the  uncontrollable 
storm  of  their  fury  when  once  they  broke  loose.  This  background 
of  insane  cruelty  increases  the  suspense,  and  heightens  by  con- 
trast the  loveliness  of  Lucie,  the  idyllic  peace  of  her  life  with  her 
father  and  Darnay  in  England,  and  the  nobility  of  Sydney 
Carton's  sacrifice.  Thus  the  setting  comes  almost  to  play  a  part 
in  the  working  out  of  the  plot. 

In  a  novel  or  long  story,  indeed,  whole  incidents  may 
be  brought  in  for  the  express  purpose  of  making  the 
setting  clear,  or  of  keeping  it  before  the  reader's  mind. 
Thus,  in  "Ivanhoe,"  Gurth's  encounter  with  the  outlaws 
(Chapter  xi)  is  not  necessary  to  the  plot;  but  it  gives  us 
a  far  better  understanding  of  the  wild  and  turbulent  times 
than  we  could  get  from  a  chapter  of  explanation.1    Such 

i  Gurth's  adventure  also  helps  to  hring  out  his  character  (see  p.  57). 


56  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

incidents  are  often  called  episodes.1  They  will  be  further 
discussed  at  a  later  stage  of  our  study  of  narration 
(pp.  67-68). 

CHARACTERIZATION  IN  STORIES 

Besides  providing  for  action,  plan,  and  setting,  a  narra- 
tive writer  must  make  the  persons  who  take  part  in 
his  story  seem  real.  In  other  words,  he  must  attend  to 
characterization. 

In  very  short  or  very  simple  stories,  dealing  chiefly  with 
incident,  characterization,  like  setting,  almost  takes  care  of 
itself ;  for  so  long  as  the  actors  say  and  do  nothing  "  out 
of  character"  the  reader  takes  their  reality  for  granted. 
In  longer  stories,  however,  and  in  the  drama,  there  is 
greater  necessity  as  well  as  greater  opportunity  for  the 
portrayal  of  character,  so  that  in  novels  and  plays  the 
intricacies  and  seeming  inconsistencies  of  character  often 
become  more  interesting  than  the  plot  itself.  One  respect 
in  which  Shakspere  surpassed  his  contemporaries  was  his 
understanding  of  human  nature  and  his  unrivalled  skill 
in  depicting  it  in  all  its  varieties.  "  Hamlet "  belongs,  in 
plot  and  general  outline,  to  the  class  known  as  "  tragedies 
of  revenge,"  which  were  not  uncommon  on  the  Elizabethan 
stage ;  but  it  stands  far  above  all  other  dramas  of  this  kind 
by  virtue  of  the  extraordinarily  complicated  character  of 
Hamlet,  which  has  given  rise  to  more  books  than  that 
of  any  other  single  personage  in  English  literature. 

The  best  and  strongest  mode  of  characterization  is  by 
means  of  the  action  and  conversation.  In  real  life  we  judge 
the  character  of  the  persons  whom  we  meet  chiefly  by 
what  they  do  and  say.    So  in  a  good  play,  we  know,  from 

1  See  the  derivation  and  definition  of  this  word  in  the  dictionary. 


CHARACTERIZATION  IN   STORIES  57 

seeing  the  actors  perform  their  parts,  just  what  kind  of  men 
and  women  they  represent,  and  what  judgment  we  should 
pass  on  them  in  real  life.  So,  too,  when  Ivanhoe,  though 
not  yet  recovered  from  his  wounds,  rushes  to  the  relief  of 
Bebecca,  we  feel  the  chivalry  of  his  nature.  When,  in  the 
same  book,  King  Richard,  disguised  as  the  Black  Knight 
of  the  Fetterlock,  carouses  with  the  Friar  and  exchanges 
buffets  with  Mm,  we  understand  his  reckless  good  temper; 
and  again  his  treatment  of  de  Bracy  shows  us  his  under- 
lyrng  royal  dignity.1  The  more  the  persons  in  a  story  are 
defined  by  what  they  themselves  say  and  do,  the  more 
sharply  they  stand  out  in  the  reader's  mind. 

We  have  seen  that  the  incident  of  Gurth's  encounter  with  the 
outlaws  (in  "  Ivanhoe,"  Chapter  xi)  serves  to  bring  out  the  setting 
of  the  novel.2  At  the  same  time  it  helps  to  define  the  character 
of  Gurth  himself.  His  fidelity  and  rude  courage  come  out  directly 
in  his  bold  attempt  to  escape  and  his  fight  with  the  miller,  and 
indirectly  in  the  effect  which  his  conduct  and  hearing  produce 
upon  the  rohbers,  who  not  only  release  him  and  refuse  to  keep 
the  money  he  is  carrying,  but  even  guide  him  to  the  top  of  a  hill 
from  which  he  can  see  his  master's  tent. 

Sometimes  the  persons  in  a  story  or  drama  are  made  to 
characterize  each  other  in  the  course  of  conversation.  We 
learn  almost  as  much  about  Jaques  in  "  As  You  Like  It " 
from  what  is  said  of  him  by  the  Duke  and  the  lords  as 
from  what  he  says  and  does  himself.  In  the  drama,  this  is 
the  only  method  available  except  that  described  in  the  two 
preceding  paragraphs,  since  the  dramatic  writer  cannot,  like 
the  novelist,  come  forward  in  his  own  person  to  describe 
or  explain.    It  is  also  an  especially  valuable  method  when 

1  All  these  incidents  also  help  to  bring  out  the  setting  of  the  story  (see 
p.  55),  and  some  of  them  advance  the  plot  as  well.  Thus  their  effect  is  much 
greater  than  if  tliey  served  but  a  single  purpose. 

2  See  p.  55. 


58  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

the  story  is  told  in  the  first  person,  since  the  conversation 
seems  more  real  from  being  reported  by  one  who  is  sup- 
posed to  have  heard  it  or  taken  part  in  it. 

Characterization  by  description  is  also  a  useful  method.1 
In  real  life  we  often  form  our  opinions  of  a  person  from 
his  looks ;  and,  in  a  story,  description  affords  us  a  similar 
basis  for  judgment.  Such  descriptions,  however,  should 
always  be  brief  and  pointed.  Here  is  an  example  from 
"Silas  Marner":  — 

Mrs.  Crackenthorpe —  a  small,  blinking  woman,  who  fidgeted 
incessantly  with  her  lace,  ribbons,  and  gold  chain,  turning  her 
head  about  and  making  subdued  noises,  very  much  like  a  guinea- 
pig  that  twitches  its  nose  and  soliloquizes  in  all  company  indis- 
criminately—  now  blinked  and  fidgeted  towards  the  Squire,  and 
said,  "  Oh  no  —  no  offence!  " 

Characterization  by  explanation  (or  exposition)2  is  the  least 
effective  method.  Long  and  elaborate  expositions  of  char- 
acter, such  as  abound  in  so-called  "  psychological  novels," 
are  apt  to  bore  the  reader  and  to  be  skipped.  They  are 
frequently  only  a  cover  for  a  writer's  inability  to  imagine 
and  set  forth  vividly  what  his  characters  would  naturally 
do  or  say.  At  its  best,  as  in  George  Eliot,  this  method 
adds  greatly  to  our  knowledge  of  the  persons  in  a  story, 
and  to  our  interest  in  them.  It  is  used  chiefly  in  stories 
told  from  the  "  omniscient "  point  of  view  (p.  50). 

All  characterization,  by  whatever  method,  must  be  con- 
sistent both  with  the  facts  of  human  experience  and  with 
itself.  The  hero  of  a  novel  must  not  be  an  impossible 
bundle  of  all  the  virtues,  nor  the  villain  a  mass  of  unre- 
lieved wickedness ;  and  a  person  who  shows  one  charac- 
teristic at  the  outset  must  not  show  an  inconsistent  one 

i  See  also  p.  118.  2  See  also  pp.  188-191. 


CONVERSATION  IN  NARRATION  59 

farther  along,  unless  something  has  happened  in  the  mean- 
time to  account  for  the  change.  In  general,  however,  if  a 
person  in  a  story  is  clearly  conceived  and  vividly  portrayed, 
this  point  will  take  care  of  itself,  since  human  nature  is 
more  freakish  and  inconsistent  than  fiction. 


CONVERSATION  IN  NARRATION 

In  real  life  a  word  or  a  speech  may  be  quite  as  impor- 
tant as  an  act.  Dialogue  or  conversation,  therefore,  is  an 
important  element  in  a  story.  After  Moses  has  come  home 
from  the  fair  (p.  19),  what  he  says  advances  the  story  even 
more  than  what  he  does.  So  in  "  Eumpelstiltskin  "  (p.  16), 
the  threats  and  commands  of  the  goblin  are  necessary 
parts  of  the  tale. 

Dialogue  adds  variety  to  a  story,  and  thus  stimulates 
the  reader's  interest.  It  makes  the  action  seem  real  by 
reproducing  the  very  words  of  the  actors,  and  it  may,  as 
we  have  seen,  also  often  throw  light  on  their  character  or 
circumstances.  In  the  extract  on  pages  17-20,  the  vicar 
speaks  far  more  calmly  than  his  wife  and  uses  better  lan- 
guage. The  wife's  hasty  temper,  goodness  of  heart,  and  in- 
experience are  shown  in  every  speech  she  utters.  Again, 
the  boyish  self-conceit  of  Moses  comes  out  unmistakably 
in  his  first  remarks  after  his  return.  Thus  the  use  of  con- 
versation may  enable  a  writer  to  spare  a  good  deal  of 
descriptive  or  explanatory  matter  that  might  otherwise 
be  needed.  In  "Silas  Marner"  the  conversation  between 
Godfrey  and  Dunstan  in  Chapter  in  explains  the  false 
situation  in  which  Godfrey  stands  on  account  of  his 
secret  marriage;  and  at  the  same  time  shows  how  weak 
he  is,  and  how  helpless  in  the  hands  of  his  unscrupulous 
brother. 


60  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Iu  many  stories,  the  actors,  or  some  of  them,  talk  in  a 
local  dialect  and  perhaps  use  bad  grammar.1  Such  conver- 
sation shows  immediately  where  the  story  is  placed,  and 
to  what  condition  of  life  the  speakers  belong.  Dialect, 
however,  has  no  virtue  in  itself ;  and,  if  used  without 
restraint,  it  soon  becomes  very  tiresome.  A  mere  sugges- 
tion of  peculiarities  in  speech  is  often  better  than  a  labo- 
rious attempt  at  complete  reproduction. 

George  Eliot  employs  conversation  with  great  skill,  especially 
that  of  country  people.  The  scenes  at  the  Rainbow  Inn  in  "  Silas 
Marner  "  are  not  merely  full  of  quiet  humor;  they  also  contribute 
largely  to  the  setting  and  the  atmosphere  of  the  novel  by  reveal- 
ing the  dense  and  narrow  ignorance  of  rural  England  a  hundred 
years  ago,  which  alone  made  possible  the  events  of  the  story. 
There  is  dialect  enough  to  heighten  the  local  color,  and  not  so 
much  as  to  disturb  the  reader.  A  good  example  may  be  seen  in 
Chapter  vi.  Scott's  use  of  the  Scottish  dialect  is  beyond  all 
praise.  See,  for  instance,  the  talk  of  Caleb  Balderstone  in  "  The 
Bride  of  Lammermoor." 

At  the  other  extreme  from  dialect  stands  such  conver- 
sation as  that  in  "  Henry  Esmond  "  (Book  III,  Chapter  iv) 
where  Lady  Castlewood  tells  the  Duke  of  Hamilton  that 
Henry  is  the  real  Lord  Castlewood,  and  has  renounced 
his  title  out  of  love  for  his  benefactor's  family.  In  this, 
one  of  the  greatest  scenes  in  all  fiction,  the  tone  of  the 
dialogue  is  so  dignified  and  stately  that  one  feels  instinc- 
tively the  high  rank  and  breeding  of  the  speakers.  The 
art  of  thus  suiting  the  style  of  the  conversation  to  the 
characters  and  the  situation,  and  at  the  same  time  to 
the  general  tone  of  the  story,  whether  grave  or  gay,  is 
one  of  the  greatest  gifts  of  the  great  novelists. 

Note.  —  Conversation  in  books  can  never  be  an  exact  copy  of  that  which 
we  hear  in  real  life.    Selection  and  condensation  are  always  necessary,  and 

i  For  the  distinction  between  dialect  and  slang,  see  pp.  353-354. 


CONVERSATION  IN  NARRATION  61 

typical  or  striking  remarks  must  therefore  occur  oftener  thau  in  everyday 
talk.  It  follows  that,  if  the  characters  and  incidents  in  a  story  are  out  of 
the  common,  and  if  the  general  action  moves  on  a  high  plane  of  thought  or 
emotion,  the  style  of  the  conversation  may  he  elevated  above  that  which 
the  speakers  would  actually  have  used.  Such  elevation  is  not  to  he  regarded 
as  unnatural.  It  is  akin  to  the  imaginative  intensity  of  poetical  diction 
(see  p.  31).  A  good  example  may  he  seen  in  the  speech  of  Meg  Merrilies 
to  Ellangowan  in  Scott's  "Guy  Mannering"  (Chapter  vm),  on  which 
Anthony  Trollope  remarks,  with  perfect  justice:  "That  does  not  offend, 
impossible  though  it  be  that  any  old  woman  should  have  spoken  such 
words." 

When  a  story  is  told  in  the  first  person,  it  often  hap- 
pens that  a  part  of  the  action  takes  place  at  a  distance 
from  the  main  scene,  or,  at  all  events,  not  under  the  eyes 
of  the  supposed  narrator.  In  such  cases,  this  part  of  the 
action  may  be  reported  in  a  conversation  in  which  the 
narrator  takes  part  or  which  he  overhears.  In  "  The  Vicar 
of  Wakefield,"  for  instance,  what  happened  at  the  fair  is 
related  in  the  conversation  that  follows  the  return  of 
Moses  (pp.  19-20). 

A  similar  device  may  be  employed  in  stories  told  in  the 
third  person. 

Thus,  in  "  Rumpelstiltskin  "  (p.  10),  the  messenger  clears  up 
the  whole  mystery  by  the  report  which  he  makes  to  the  queen. 
He  has  seen  a  ridiculous  little  man  hopping  about  a  fire  and 
singing  a  song  that  reveals  the  wished-for  name.  Again,  in 
••  Silas  Marner"  (Chapter  in),  the  conversation  between  God- 
frey and  Dunstan  is  used  to  inform  the  reader  of  Godfrey's 
entanglement. 

In  all  three  of  these  stories,  then,  the  action  is  advanced 
in  a  direct  and  orderly  way  by  means  of  conversation. 

In  the  drama,  which  is  all  action  and  speech,  the  dia- 
logue must  furnish  us  with  much  information  that,  in  a 
story,  we  get  from  narrative,  descriptive,  and  explanatory 
passages.1 

1  See  also  p.  ~>7. 


62  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

In  "As  You  Like  It,"  for  instance,  the  conversation  in  the 
first  scene  explains  the  circumstances  which  later  force  Orlando 
to  leave  home  and  go  to  the  Forest  of  Arden.  That  in  the  second 
scene,  besides  showing  how  Orlando  first  touched  Rosalind's  fancy, 
tells  of  the  banishment  of  the  rightful  Duke.  Thus  the  dialogue 
gradually  reveals  to  the  audience  all  that  it  is  necessary  for  them 
to  know  of  the  circumstances. 

Again,  in  '-The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  the  opening  lines  of 
Act  v  describe  a  moonlight  night  in  beautifully  poetic  language. 
When  the  play  was  first  acted,  this  speech  was  the  only  possible 
means  of  informing  the  audience  that  the  moon  was  shining  ;  for 
the  theatres  of  Shakspere's  time  had  practically  no  scenery  or 
stage-setting.  By  means  of  the  dialogue,  therefore,  Shakspere 
created,  at  the  beginning  of  this  act,  the  atmosphere  of  romantic 
beauty  which  makes  it  so  fitting  an  end  to  the  play.  Similarly, 
in  "Macbeth,"  Act  i,  Scene  G,  Duncan  and  Banquo  describe 
Macbeth's  castle  in  a  short  dialogue  which  brings  the  whole 
situation  vividly  before  the  minds  of  the  spectators. 

The  conversation  in  a  story  can  repeat  but  a  small  part 
of  what  would  actually  have  been  said  in  real  life.  One 
can  read  all  the  dialogue  on  pages  19-20  in  two  or  three 
minutes  ;  hut  of  course  the  actual  scene  would  have  lasted 
much  longer.  Goldsmith  put  in  only  enough  to  tell  what 
happened  and  to  suggest  the  feelings  and  characters  of 
the  actors.  In  the  dialogue,  then,  as  well  as  in  the  inci- 
dents, a  story-teller  must  select  his  material  (p.  39),  including 
only  what  is  interesting,  characteristic,  and  to  the  point. 
In  narration,  as  in  life,  too  much  talk  is  tiresome:  The 
conversation  in  a  story  should  never  clog  or  enfeeble  the 

action. 

In  writing  a  conversation,  therefore,  select  such  speeches  as 
will  help  to  advance  the  action,  to  bring  out  the  character  or 
situation  of  the  speakers,  and  to  make  the  narrative  lively,  and 
leave  the  rest  to  the  reader's  imagination. 


MATERIAL  FOR  STORIES  63 

MATERIAL  FOR  STORIES 

No  life  is  so  fiat  and  dull  as  not  to  afford  material  for  good 
stories.  Literature  abounds  in  illustrations  of  this  truth. 
Goldsmith's  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield "  shows  what  a  writer 
of  genius  may  accomplish  with  the  simplest  materials. 
Mrs.  Gaskell's  "Cranford"  deals  with  quiet  life  in  an 
old-fashioned  neighborhood.  Mr.  Barries  "Window  in 
Thrums"  is  a  collection  of  short  stories  about  a  sick 
woman,  shut  up  in  her  room  in  an  out-of-the-way  village 
in  Scotland.  It  hardly  goes  beyond  what  she  can  see 
from  her  window  or  what  the  neighbors  say  when  they 
call.  The  short  stories  in  the  better  magazines  often  deal 
with  life  in  little  country  towns,  with  the  daily  work  of 
newspaper  reporters,  with  children's  doings,  or  with  the 
slums  in  great  cities. 

The  newspaper  reporter  has  few  great  events  to  chron- 
icle. Yet,  as  he  walks  about  the  streets,  he  fills  his  note- 
book daily  with  items  that  people  are  eager  to  read.  The 
materials  for  story-writing,  then,  are  abundant.  We  must 
train  ourselves  to  observe  small  happenings,  to  recognize 
their  significance,  and  to  report  them  so  vividly  that 
others  will  appreciate  their  interest. 

Observe  the  details  that  Goldsmith  thinks  it  worth  while 
to  notice  and  to  put  into  his  "  Vicar  of  Wakefield  "  (p.  18). 
Mr.  Burchell  had  bought  the  children  each  a  pennyworth  of 
gingerbread,  which,  says  the  vicar,  "my  wife  undertook  to  keep 
for  them  and  give  them  by  little  at  a  time."  Again,  the  vicar's 
wife  "  was  unusually  fond  of  a  weasel-skin  purse,  as  being  the 
most  lucky." 

Dickens's  description  of  "The  Old  Boat"  (pp.  92-94)  illus- 
trates in  another  way  the  effectiveness  of  trifles  when  handled  by 
a  great  writer. 

Even  in  "Lochinvar"  (p.  20),  which  is  so  brief,  and  moves 
so  rapidly,  we  find  the  line  "  And  the  bridegroom  stood  dangling 


64  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

his  bonnet  and  plume."  Omit  it,  and  note  what  is  lost.  "  Rum- 
pelstiltskin  "  (p.  15)  would  not  be  so  good  without  the  «  whirr, 
whirr,  whirr  "  of  the  mill-wheel.  In  Grey's  "  Australian  Super- 
stition "  (p.  28),  the  exact  words  of  poor  Kaiber's  song  about 
the  mussels  impart  vividness  and  reality  to  the  anecdote. 

On  the  other  hand,  good  writers  never  encumber  their 
stories  with  useless  matter.  They  may  introduce  a  multi- 
tude of  details,  but  every  one  serves  a  definite  purpose. 

In  «  The  Vicar  of  Wakefield,"  for  instance,  Goldsmith  wishes 
to  make  the  reader  feel  the  simplicity  and  unworldliness  of  the 
vicar  and  his  family.  This  he  accomplishes  by  the  aid  of  many 
little  touches,  some  of  them  apparently  quite  accidental,  but 
all  in  reality  significant.  If  Mr.  Burchell  had  been  the  subject 
of  the  story,  Goldsmith  would  have  selected  his  details  quite 
differently. 

Again,  in  "  Rumpelstiltskin  "  (pp.  16-17),  the  wrong  names 
are  mentioned  with  deliberate  purpose,  in  order  to  increase  the 
reader's  suspense. 

In  Grey's  "  Australian  Superstition  "  (pp.  27-28),  the  use  of 
the  native  word  for  wizard  marks  the  contrast  between  the  igno- 
rant savage  and  the  enlightened  explorer.  Thus  the  point  of  the 
story  comes  out  more  clearly. 

Writers  who  try  to  copy  life  exactly  by  means  of  a 
great  number  of  minute  and  specific  details  are  sometimes 
called  "  realists."  This  method  is  tiresome  when  carried 
to  an  extreme.  But  in  a  modified  sense  all  great  story- 
writers  are  realists  :  that  is,  they  use  minor  details  to  make 
their  stories  seem  more  real.  Swift,  in  "Gulliver's  Travels," 
thinks  it  worth  while  to  tell  us  the  name  of  Gulliver's 
wife,  though  that  has  nothing  to  do  with  the  Captain's 
adventures.  De  Foe  makes  Eobinson  Crusoe  write,  in 
describing  his  condition  when  he  was  washed  ashore 
from  the  wreck,  "  I  had  nothing  about  me  but  a  knife, 
a  tobacco  pipe,  and  a  little  tobacco  in  a  box  " ;  and  later, 


THE  USES  OF  INCIDENT  IN   NARRATION        65 

when  he  pitched  his  tent :  "  It  was  on  the  KN.W.  side  of 
the  hill,  so  that  I  was  sheltered  from  the  heat  every  day, 
till  it  came  to  a  W.  by  S.  sun,  or  thereabouts,  which  in 
those  countries  is  near  the  setting."  With  such  writers 
every  detail  serves  its  purpose,  —  to  heighten  the  action, 
to  make  the  setting  more  vivid,  or  to  bring  out  the  indi- 
viduality of  some  character  in  clearer  relief. 

THE  USES  OF  INCIDENT  IN  NARRATION 

Action,  as  we  have  seen  again  and  again,  is  the  essential 
quality  of  a  story.  Without  action  there  can  be  no  such 
thing  as  narration.  We  have  studied  the  several  uses  or 
functions  of  incident  separately.  If,  now,  we  bring  these 
uses  together,  we  shall  find  that  they  group  themselves 
under  three  heads :  plot,  setting,  and  character. 

I.  Incident  serves  to  advance  the  plot.  The  word  plot,1  as 
applied  to  narrative  and  dramatic  writing,  denotes  the 
scheme  or  system  of  connected  incidents  which,  taken 
together,  make  up  the  story,  or,  in  other  words,  the  ground 
plan  of  the  tale,  novel,  or  play.  To  advance  the  plot  is,  then, 
the  most  obvious  and  important  use  of  incident.  One  can 
outline  the  plot  of  "  Ivanhoe,"  for  example,  in  the  form  of 
a  table ;  but  such  a  table  is  not  a  story,  any  more  than 
a  skeleton  is  a  living  man.  This  point  is  so  self-evident 
as  to  need  no  discussion. 

Among  incidents  that  advance  the  plot  of  Ivanhoe  are  :  —  the 
visit  of  the  Prior  and  the  Templar  to  Rotherwood  ;  the  assistance 
given  by  the  Palmer  to  the  Jew  ;  the  Tournament. 

II.  Incident  gives  setting.  Setting,  as  we  have  seen,  is 
largely  dependent  on  description.  In  a  long  story,  however, 

i  The  terra  is  usually  restricted  to  works  of  some  length.  Thus  we  speak 
of  the  plot  of  a  novel  or  a  tragedy,  but  not  of  the  plot  of  a  brief  anecdote. 


66  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

there  is  opportunity  for  the  use  of  a  far  livelier  device,  — 
the  interweaving  of  episodes  (pp.  55-56),  winch,  though 
they  do  not  advance  the  plot  materially,  if  at  all,  bring 
out  the  setting  by  means  of  action. 

Examples  from  "  Ivauhoe  "  are  Gurth's  encounter  with  the 
outlaws  (see  p.  67,  below)  ;  the  archery  contest  (Chapter  xm)  ; 
Cedric's  attack  on  Gurth's  dog  Fangs  (Chapter  xvin)  ;  the 
threatened  torture  of  Isaac  the  Jew  (Chapter  xxn)  ;  the  Prior's 
ransom  (Chapter  xxxiii).  All  of  these  might  be  omitted  with- 
out affecting  the  main  plot,  but  we  cannot  spare  them.  They  are 
good  stories  in  themselves  and  they  form  an  integral  part  of  the 
setting. 

III.  Incident  brings  out  character.  A  person's  character, 
as  we  know,  is  best  judged  by  his  actions.  Incident, 
therefore,  is  the  most  powerful  method  of  bringing  out 
character  in  a  story.  Description  and  explanation  may 
also  be  necessary,  but  they  will  fail  of  their  object  unless 
a  writer  makes  the  men  and  women  whom  he  describes 
act  in  accordance  with  the  character  he  has  given  them. 

All  the  examples  from  "  Ivanhoe  "  just  cited  under  Setting 
apply  equally  well  here.  Gurth's  rude  valor  comes  out  in  his 
encounter  with  the  outlaws;  Cedric's  impatience  is  shown  by 
his  anger  at  Fangs  ;  Front-de-Bceuf's  greed  and  cruelty  and 
Isaac's  tight  grip  on  his  money  appear  in  the  incident  of  the 
threatened  torture  ;  the  episode  of  the  Prior's  ransom  exhibits 
very  varied  traits  in  the  several  actors. 

Note.  —  In  stories  which  rely  for  their  interest  rather  on  delineation 
of  character  than  on  exciting  action  or  absorbing  plot,  the  importance  of 
this  use  of  incident  becomes  paramount.  Such  are  Mrs.  Gaskell's  "Cran- 
ford  "  and  the  novels  of  Miss  Austen  and  Miss  Burney.  In  so-called  "  psycho- 
logical novels,"  like  some  of  George  Eliot's,  where  character  is  subjected 
to  subtle  and  long-continued  analysis,  the  smallest  incidents  illustrate  the 
traits  and  qualities  which  the  author  is  studying.  In  such  cases,  it  requires 
the  nicest  art  to  keep  a  proper  proportion  between  the  analysis  and  the 
incident,  so  that  the  events  shall  not  seem  to  take  place  merely  for  the  sake 
of  being  interpreted  in  terms  of  character. 


THE  USES  OE  INCIDENT  IN  NARRATION        67 

Observe  that  the  three  uses  or  functions  of  incident 
are  not  mutually  exclusive.  An  incident  that  advances 
the  plot  almost  always  helps  the  setting  and  brings  out 
character  as  well.  And,  on  the  other  hand,  an  episode  — 
an  incident  that  serves  mainly  for  setting  or  characteriza- 
tion—  may  also  advance  the  plot,  either  directly,  or  by 
introducing  new  actors,  by  showing  the  relations  between 
persons,  or  the  like. 

Thus,  the  Tournament  is  one  of  the  main  incidents  in  the  plot 
of  "  Ivanhoe  "  ;  at  the  same  time  it  brings  out  the  characters  of 
all  concerned  and  is  very  significant  for  the  setting.  On  the  other 
hand,  Garth's  encounter  with  the  outlaws,  which  serves  primarily 
for  setting  and  characterization,  is  of  some  moment  in  advanc- 
ing the  plot,  since  it  not  only  introduces  us  to  Locksley's  band, 
but  reveals  their  sentiments  toward  the  Normans,  and  thus  pre- 
pares us  for  the  part  they  are  to  play  in  attacking  Front-de- 
Bceuf's  castle  and  releasing  Rowena. 

A  good  story-teller,  then,  makes  each  incident  serve 
every  purpose  to  which  it  is  adapted ;  or  rather,  he  selects 
such  incidents  as  are  naturally  adaptable  to  more  purposes 
than  one.    In  other  words,  he  practices  "  artistic  economy." 

A  good  novelist  also  manages  his  episodes  skilfully.  He 
keeps  them  subordinate,  both  in  number  and  in  length, 
to  the  main  action,  so  that  his  story  shall  not  become 
rambling  or  disconnected  or  confused  or  out  of  propor- 
tion. He  also  takes  care  that  they  arise  naturally  from 
the  yjlot  and  are  not,  as  the  saying  is,  "  lugged  in  by  the 
head  and  shoulders." 

Tims  the  encounter  of  Gurth  with  the  outlaws,  in  "Ivanhoe  " 
(Chapter  xi),  is  precisely  the  kind  of  adventure  that  was  likely 
to  happen  to  him  in  his  night  journey  from  Ashby  to  the  lists  in 
those  disorderly  times.  Moreover,  we  are  prepared  for  something 
of  the  sort  by  the  warning  which  Rebecca  gives  him  at  the  close 
of  the  preceding  chapter,  and  by  his  own  anxiety  as  lie  enters  the 


68  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

dark  and  lonesome  lane  beyond  the  outskirts  of  the  village.  And 
finally,  at  the  end  of  Chapter  xn,  our  feeling  that  the  encounter 
was  natural  and  probable  is  confirmed  by  the  reflections  of  Gurth's 
master,  who  is  surprised,  not  that  Gurth  fell  in  with  robbers,  but 
that  they  let  him  go  without  taking  the  gold. 

COMPLICATION  OF  PLOT 

A  simple  story,  as  we  have  seen,1  may  follow  the  order 
of  time  throughout ;  but  in  a  more  complicated  narrative 
this  is  seldom  possible.  For  example,  there  may  be  two 
sets  of  characters  acting  in  different  places  at  the  same 
time,  and  the  point  of  the  story  may  be  the  combined 
effect  of  their  separate  action. 

Thus  the  story  of  the  discovery  of  a  gold  mine  might  bring  in 
(1)  an  exploring  or  prospecting  party  who  are  searching  for  gold, 
and  (2)  a  band  of  hunters  who  have  come  from  quite  another 
direction  and  have  no  thought  of  treasure.  The  point  of  the 
story  might  be  the  simultaneous  discovery  of  the  mine  by  the 
two  parties  and  their  contest  over  the  ownership. 

This  is  a  very  simple  example,  but  it  illustrates  the 
general  principle  of  all  complications  of  plot.  The  search 
of  the  prospectors  and  the  wanderings  of  the  hunting 
party  take  place  at  the  same  time,  but  they  cannot  be  told 
at  the  same  time :  in  the  story,  one  must  come  before  the 
other,  or  the  two  must  be  interwoven  in  some  way.  In 
either  case,  the  writer  must  make  clear  the  fact  that  both 
sets  of  actions  really  take  place  together,  though  in  dif- 
ferent localities. 

In  a  novel  or  romance  the  complications  may  be  very 
numerous ;  for  a  number  of  different  stories  may  combine 
to  make  the  plot  of  the  book.  In  such  cases,  the  author 
must  keep  the  several  sets  of  characters  distinct,  as  well 

i  See  p.  35. 


COMPLICATION   OF   PLOT  69 

as  their  action,  until  the  moment  when  they  naturally 
come  together  or  cross  each  other's  path. 

Stevenson's  "Treasure  Island"  is  a  good  example  of  the 
complications  of  time  and  action  that  may  arise  in  a  not 
very  elaborate  plot.  It  also  illustrates  the  art  of  a  good 
story-teller  in  keeping  the  parts  of  a  plot  distinct  so  that 
there  is  no  confusion  in  the  reader's  mind. 

Part  I  describes  the  pirates  and  tells  how  the  map  of  Treasure 
Island  was  found  in  Billy  Bones's  sea  chest.  Here  everything 
moves  in  the  actual  order  of  time  ;  for  the  narrator,  Jim  Hawkins, 
is  the  chief  actor  in  all  these  events. 

At  the  beginning  of  Part  II,  however,  Squire  Trelawney  is  in 
Bristol,  purchasing  a  ship  for  the  expedition  and  engaging  his 

crew, among  them  John  Silver,  who  afterwards  causes  so  much 

tnmble.  Jim  is  still  at  home.  Hence  Mr.  Trelawney 's  doings 
are  narrated  in  a  letter  to  old  Redruth,  which  is  read  aloud  by 
Jim,  because  the  recipient  "  was  a  poor  hand  at  reading  anything 
but  print." 

Then  the  story  continues  in  Jim's  own  words.  The  conspiracy 
of  the  mutineers,  however,  is  not  inserted  in  its  actual  chrono- 
logical position.  It  had  been  formed  before  the  ship  sailed, 
bu1  our  first  knowledge  of  the  plan  comes  from  a  conversation 
between  Silver  and  the  mutineers,  which  Jim  overhears  from  his 
hiding-place  in  the  apple  barrel. 

Later,  when  the  island  is  reached  and  Jim  has  slipped  ashore, 
there  are  the  separate  adventures  (1)  of  Jim,  (:2)  of  Captain 
Smollett's  party,  and  (3)  of  Silver's  gang,  —  all  of  which  are 
going  on  at  the  same  time  but  in  different  places.  These  have  to 
be  kept  distincl  ;  yet  their  relations  to  each  other  must  be  made 
plain.  Accordingly,  Jim  tells  his  own  adventures;  then  three 
chapters  are  ^iven  to  the  Doctor's  story  of  what  happened  to  the 
Captain's  party;  and  finally,  when  Jim  resumes  the  narrative, 
Silver  comes  in  with  a  flag  of  truce  and  we  gather  enough  of  what 
has  happened  to  the  mutineers  to  keep  the  story  intelligible. 

So  the  laic  goes  on,  Jim's  personal  adventures  coining  more  and 
more  to  the  front,  until,  at  the  end,  all  that  has  happened  to  the 
others  while  Jim  was  in  the  coracle,  on  board  the  Hispaniola,  and 


70  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

in  the  mutineers'  camp,  is  related  to  Jim,  in  a  few  words,  as  the 
party  "  proceeds  leisurely  downhill  to  where  the  boats  are  lying." 

Compare  Stevenson's  "Treasure  Island"  with  "Kobinson 
Crusoe,"  and  you  will  at  once  perceive  that  the  former 
has  the  more  complicated  plot.  In  "Kobinson  Crusoe,"1 
long  as  it  is,  there  is  only  a  single  story,  —  that  of  Crusoe's 
own  experiences. 

The  tale  begins  at  the  beginning.  Crusoe  tells  of  his  birth 
and  parentage,  how  he  first  went  to  sea,  then  became  a  Guinea 
trader,  was  taken  prisoner  by  the  Moors,  escaped  and  settled  in 
Brazil,  and  finally  embarked  on  the  voyage  which  ended  with  his 
shipwreck.  Since  Crusoe  is  the  only  person  concerned,  all  these 
events  are  told  in  the  order  in  which  they  occurred.  From  this 
point,  except  for  Friday's  account  of  himself,  the  book  is  a 
straightforward  record  of  Robinson's  adventures.  Hence  DeFoe 
can  still  follow  the  order  of  time,  and  has  no  trouble  in  keep- 
ing the  thread  of  the  story  from  breaking  or  getting  tangled. 

In  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  the  treatment  of  each  set 
of  characters  is  fuller  than  in  "  Treasure  Island,"  and  the 
plot  is  far  more  complicated.  It  might  be  analyzed  into  a 
number  of  separate  stories:  the  story  of  Charles  Darnay 
and  Lucie  Manette,  with  the  strange  intermingling  of  their 
family  histories,  which  is  the  main  subject  of  the  book ; 
the  story  of  the  Defarges,  of  Dr.  Manette  in  the  Bastille, 
of  Miss  Pross  and  her  blackguard  brother  ("  Barsad  "),  of 
Sydney  Carton,  of  Cruncher,  "  the  honest  tradesman."  In 
constructing  the  plot  Dickens  brings  these  persons,  who 
differ  so  widely  in  character  and  circumstances,  into  such 
situations  that  their  several  fortunes  act  and  react  upon 
each  other,  until  Sydney  Carton,  who  has  wasted  his  life 
and  his  talents  in  dissipation,  is  brought  under  the  enno- 
bling influence  of  Lucie,  and  provides  the  solution  by 
sacrificing  himself  to  save  her  husband. 

1  Part  I  is  of  course  meant. 


COMPLICATION   OF   PLOT  71 

A  little  study  will  show  how  much  skill  and  foresight 
Dickens  used  in  keeping  these  trains  of  incident  distinct, 
and  making  them  all  lead  up  to  the  climax. 

Book  I.  — Mr.  Lorry,  the  elderly  banker,  journeys  from  London 
to  Dover,  where  he  meets  Lucie  and  informs  her  that  her  father, 
Dr.  Manette,  is  not  dead,  but  that  he  has  just  been  released  from 
the  Bastille,  broken  in  mind  aud  body,  after  eighteen  years' 
imprisonment.  (Miss  Pross,  Lucie's  devoted  attendant,  makes 
her  first  appearance  at  this  point.  She  is  to  play  a  most  impor- 
tant part  at  the  climax  of  the  story.)  Mr.  Lorry  and  Lucie  go  to 
Paris,  find  the  Doctor  at  the  house  of  Defarge,  his  old  servant, 
and  start  with  him  for  England.  (Incidentally,  Book  I  describes 
the  ferocious  misery  of  the  French  people,  which  is  soon  to  result 
in  the  Revolution.) 

Book  II  {five  years  later).  —  Darnay's  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey, 
on  a  false  charge  of  treasonable  correspondence  with  France, 
brings  him  and  Lucie  together.  It  also  introduces  Sydney  Carton, 
the  dissipated  lawyer,  and  emphasizes  his  strange  resemblance  to 
Darnay,  on  which  the  final  unravelling  of  the  plot  is  to  depend. 
Two  spies,  Barsad  and  Cly,  give  false  evidence  against  Darnay 
at  the  trial.  —  The  scene  shifts  to  France.1  The  brutal  behavior  of 
the  Marquis  d'Evremonde  when  his  coach  runs  over  a  child  in  the 
streets  of  Paris  shows  the  tyranny  of  the  nobles,  which  is  to  pre- 
cipitate the  French  Revolution.  The  marquis,  at  his  chateau  in 
the  country,  has  an  interview  with  Darnay,  who,  as  we  now  learn, 
is  his  nephew  and  heir.  Darnay  renounces  his  inheritance  and 
declares  his  intention  of  living  in  England.  That  night  the  mar- 
quis is   murdered  by  the  father  of  the  child The  scene  shifts 

to  London.  A  year  passes.  Darnay  tells  Dr.  Manette  of  his  love 
for  Lucie  Carton's  hopeless  love  for  her  is  also  revealed.  Civ's 
funeral  and  the  body-snatching  adventure  of  Cruncher  come  in 
here.  (The  connection  of  these  two  incidents  with  the  plot  is 
made  evident  in  Book  III.)  —  The  scene  shifts  to  Paris.    The  tide  of 

i  These  sudden  changes  ol  scene  would  not  be  allowable  in  a  shorl  story. 
They  are,  indeed,  exceptional  in  a  novel,  and  that  I)i<k<-ns  succeeds  in 
making  them  seem  natural  is  a  proof  of  liis  greal  narrative  skill.  The 
division  of  the  story  between  London  and  Paris  is  so  marked  a  Eeature  of 
this  novel  that  it  actually  determines  its  title,  — "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities." 


72  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC  ^ 

the  Revolution  is  rising  ;  the  people  are  preparing  for  an  out- 
break. —  The  scene  shifts  to  London.   Lucie  and  Darnay  are  married. 

The  scene  shifts  to  Paris.    The  populace  revolt  and  storm  the 

Bastille  ;  the  chateau  of  the  Evremondes  is  burned  down.  —  The 
scene  shifts  to  London.  Darnay,  learning  that  the  agent  of  the 
Evremondes  has  been  arrested  by  the  revolutionists,  sets  out  for 
Paris  to  save  him. 

Book  III.  —  The  scene  shifts  to  Paris.  Darnay  is  arrested  by 
the  revolutionists  as  an  ''aristocrat"  and  "emigrant,"  and  is 
thrown  into  prison  at  a  time  when  the  prisoners  are  daily  mas- 
sacred by  the  mob.  The  Reign  of  Terror  is  in  full  career.  Dr. 
Manette  goes  to  Paris,  with  Lucie  and  her  child.  He  is  honored 
by  the  revolutionists  as  a  former  victim  of  tyranny,  and  protects 
Darnay,  though  he  cannot  secure  his  release.  — A  year  and  three 
months  pass.  Darnay  is  acquitted,  through  the  Doctor's  efforts, 
but  is  almost  immediately  rearrested  through  the  instrumentality 
of  the  Defarges.  At  his  second  trial  Defarge  produces  a  docu- 
ment, written  by  the  Doctor  years  before  in  the  Bastille,  recount- 
ing the  crimes  of  the  Evremondes  (Darnay 's  father  and  uncle). 
This  causes  Darnay's  condemnation,  despite  the  Doctor's  protests. 
The  reason  for  the  malignity  of  the  Defarges  is  explained.  The 
spies  Barsad  and  Cly  (who  is  not  really  dead)  appear  in  Paris  in 
the  service  of  the  revolutionists.  (The  significance  of  Cruncher's 
adventure  in  Book  II  is  now  made  clear.)  Carton,  who  has  come 
to  France  to  assist  Lucie,  recognizes  the  spies.  He  terrifies  Barsad 
into  helping  him  in  a  plan  to  save  Darnay.  Relying  on  his  extraor- 
dinary resemblance  to  Darnay,  Carton  changes  places  with  him 
in  prison,  and  Darnay  is  carried  out  of  Paris,  unconscious,  in  a 
coach  with  Lucie,  the  child,  the  Doctor,  and  Mr.  Lorry.  Madame 
Defarge  learns  that  Lucie  and  the  child  have  escaped,  but,  before 
she  can  have  them  pursued,  she  is  killed  in  a  struggle  with  Miss 
Pross.  Carton  goes  to  his  death,  rejoicing  in  having  saved  Lucie's 
husband.  What  we  need  to  know  of  the  future  of  Lucie  and 
Darnay  is  briefly  told  as  a  kind  of  vision  which  Carton  might 
have  had  at  the  foot  of  the  scaffold. 

In  spite  of  this  intricate  complication  of  plot,  "  A  Tale 
of  Two  Cities  "  is  perfectly  clear.  We  pass  from  scene  to 
scene,  and  from  one  set  of  characters  to  another,  without 


THE  NARRATIVE   IX  LITERATURE  73 

an  effort;  and  our  interest  is  constantly  increased  by  the 
suspense,  until  the  climax  is  reached  with  the  escape  of 
Darnay  and  the  death  of  Carton. 

THE  XARRATIYE  IX  LITERATURE 

If  we  turn  to  literature,  and  consider  the  stories  that 
have  been  woven  out  of  the  tangled  threads  of  human 
experience,  we  find  almost  as  many  varieties  as  there 
are  kinds  of  readers.  The  diversity  is  so  great,  and  the 
differences  melt  into  each  other  so  indistinguishably,  that 
no  thorough-going  classification  is  possible.  We  may  begin, 
however,  with  the  familiar  division  into  "  true  stories " 
and  fiction. 

Among  true  stories  we  may  classify  histories,  biogra- 
phies, and  other  similar  works  that  we  have  decided  to 
call  narratives  (pp.  29-31).  With  them  would  go  books  of 
travel  and  exploration,  like  Stanley's  "  In  Darkest  Africa," 
Hansen's  "Farthest  North,"  Grey's  "Travels  in  Aus- 
tralia," and  Dana's  "Two  Years  Before  the  Mast,"  and 
autobiographies,  such  as  Lord  Roberts's  "Forty-one  Years 
in  India."  Such  narratives  are  often  as  entertaining  as 
any  novel.  Besides,  they  record  facts  of  permanent  impor- 
tance, for  their  material  is'  the  actual  experience  of  real 
men  and  women. 

The  great  class  of  fiction  includes  not  only  made-up 
stories,  but  also  many  poems  and  plays.  Indeed,  it  com- 
prises the  greater  part  of  what  we  commonly  call  literature. 
In  such  works,  the  material,  instead  of  being  the  actual 
experience  of  a  limited  number  of  real  persons,  may  lie 
drawn  from  the  collective  experience  of  many  ages  and 
nations,  or  it  may  pass  beyond  experience  into  the  realm 
of  the  purely  imaginative.    This  class  of  literature  is  of 


74  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

boundless  extent.  It  includes,  on  the  one  hand,  works 
like  "  Kobinson  Crusoe "  and  "  David  Copperfield,"  which 
seem  almost  truer  than  reality,  and,  on  the  other,  fairy 
stories,  dramas  like  "  A  Midsummer  Night's  Dream,"  and, 
in  our  own  day,  tales  like  those  in  Kipling's  "Jungle 
Books,"  —  all  of  them  the  product  of  the  poetical  imagina- 
tion. In  fiction,  then,  the  material  of  experience  has  been, 
as  it  were,  dissolved  and  recrystallized  into  new  creations, 
of  which  some  bear  the  semblance  of  reality,  while  others 
are  imreal  and  even  fantastic. 

The  mere  fact  that  a  story  is  a  work  of  fiction,  how- 
ever, does  not  prevent  its  having  a  deep  and  significant 
truth  of  its  own.  Great  pieces  of  literature,  such  as  the 
novels  of  Hawthorne  or  Dickens  or  Thackeray,  or  the 
plays  of  Shakspere,  are  true  to  nature  in  a  sense  that  is 
not  merely  figurative ;  for  they  exhibit  life  and  character 
in  distinct  and  intelligible  outlines.  A  simple  fairy  tale 
like  "  The  Ugly  Duckling  "  may  bring  into  clear  light  the 
pathos  of  some  life  that  seemed  lost  in  the  multitude  of 
everyday  details. 

That  fiction  has  a  truth  of  its  own  we  may  easily 
see  by  considering  how  it  is  used  in  fables  and  alle- 
gories to  convey  a  lesson.  A  fable,  which  is  a  very  short 
story,  usually  of  beasts  or  inanimate  objects,  throws  into 
strong  relief  some  characteristic  or  foible  of  human  na- 
ture. "  The  Fox  and  the  Grapes  "  and  "  The  Lion's  Share  " 
are  fables  that  have  passed  into  proverbs.  An  allegory  1 
is  a  more  artificial  and  elaborate  parable,  in  which  the 
actors  are  sometimes  personified  qualities,  like  Courage  or 
Temperance  or  Craftiness.  Both  allegory  and  fable  show 
how  effectively  fiction  may  convey  deep  and  universal 
truths. 

i  See  also  pp.  378-380. 


THE  NARRATIVE   IN   LITERATURE  75 

We  find,  then,  that  the  distinction  between  "true 
stories "  and  works  of  pure  imagination,  though  con- 
venient, is  not  quite  essential.  Fur  fiction  may  be  just 
as  true,  in  the  higher  sense  of  the  word,  as  history  or 
travel  or  any  other  record  of  actual  experience.  Let  us 
therefore  make  another  classification  of  stories,  dividing 
them  into  (1)  those  that  have  their  main  interest  in  adven- 
ture, and  (2)  those  in  which  the  emphasis  is  laid  rather 
on  character  or  manners. 

The  first  class  needs  no  discussion.  "  Eobinson  Crusoe  " 
has  been  read  for  two  hundred  years,  and  is  quite  as 
popular  now  as  it  was  in  De  Foe's  lifetime.  Indeed,  tales 
of  adventure  were  never  in  greater  favor  than  they  are 
to-day.  Stevenson's  "  Treasure  Island  "  and  "  Kidnapped  " 
and  Kipling's  stories  are  familiar  to  every  one.  Such  tales 
give  us  pleasure  because  through  them  we  share  in  new 
and  stirring  experiences  which  most  of  us  can  never  have. 
They  bring  the  whole  world  to  our  firesides.  As  we  read 
them,  we  feel  the  enchantment  of  strange  lands  and  dis- 
tant seas. 

In  stories  of  the  second  class,  —  and  especially  in  novels, 
—  the  interest  lies  not  so  much  in  what  the  actors  do  as 
in  what  they  are.  The  purpose  is  not  primarily  to  describe 
adventures,  but  rather  to  portray  character. 

Into  this  class  fall  such  works  as  George  Eliot's  novels, 
with  most  of  those  of  Dickens,  of  Thackeray,  and  (among 
American  writers)  of  Hawthorne.  There  may  be  incident 
in  plenty  (as  in  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities"),  yet  the  chief 
purpose  is  to  bring  the  actors  into  situations  that  will 
throw  their  characters  into  relief. 

Compare  a  story  of  pure  adventure,  like  "Robinson 
Crusoe"  or  "Treasure  Island,"  with  "A  Tale  of  Two 
Cities,"  and  you  feel  the  difference  at  once.    In  the  latter, 


76  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

there  are  as  many  exciting  events,  as  many  hairbreadth 
escapes,  as  in  either  of  the  former.  Yet  you  instinctively 
feel  that  these  are  not  told  merely  for  their  own  sake. 
There  is  a  great  deal  else  in  the  story.  You  remember 
the  sweetness  of  Lucie ;  the  uprightness  of  Dr.  Manette ; 
the  quiet,  fierce  heat  of  Madame  Defarge's  vengeance ;  the 
nobility  concealed  under  the  reckless  bearing  of  Sydney 
Carton.  All  these  persons,  with  many  others,  are  brought 
so  vividly  before  you  in  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  that  you 
forget  that  they  are  creatures  of  the  imagination.  Indeed, 
the  characters  in  novels  are  often  far  more  real  to  us  than 
the  personages  of  history. 

Frequently,  too,  the  main  interest  of  a  work  of  fiction 
resides  in  the  state  of  society  or  of  manners  that  it  por- 
trays. Such  is  the  case  in  Jane  Austen's  novels,  and  in 
Mrs.  Gaskell's  "  Cranford."  In  our  own  day,  the  life  of 
New  England  has  been  described  in  the  stories  of  Miss 
Jewett  and  Miss  Wilkins ;  that  of  the  Middle  West  by 
Octave  Thanet.  Though  the  life  that  they  portray  is  com- 
monplace enough,  it  is  so  vividly  and  naturally  depicted 
that  nobody  finds  it  dull,  especially  when  it  is  enlivened 
by  humor,  one  of  the  most  delightful  of  human  qualities. 

The  reason  why  studies  of  character  and  manners  are 
so  widely  read  is  that  human  nature  is  always  interest- 
ing. A  good  novelist  picks  out  a  few  typical  persons,  and 
detaches  their  experiences  from  those  of  the  mass  of 
people  that  surround  them.  Thus  we  get  a  vivid  impres- 
sion of  their  human  qualities,  and  our  interest  is  roused 
and  sustained.  The  purpose  of  a  novelist  is  akin  to  that 
of  the  author  or  editor  of  a  "  Life  and  Letters,"  as  con- 
trasted with  that  of  a  biographical  article  in  an  encyclo- 
paedia. Such  an  article  must  be  confined  to  a  bare  record 
of  facts ;  while  a  work  like  Lockhart's  "  Life  and  Letters 


THE   NARRATIVE   IN   LITERATURE  77 

of  Sir  Walter  Scott,"  or  Trevelyan's  "  Life  and  Letters  of 
Macaulay,"  aims  to  portray  the  life  of  its  subject  in 
every  detail,  and  to  show  the  times  in  which  he  lived,  the 
friends  he  made,  and  all  his  views  on  the  men  and  events 
of  his  day. 

An  intelligent  reading  of  the  best  novels  is  not  a  waste 
of  time ;  for  to  understand  human  nature  is  no  small  part 
of  wisdom.  But  we  must  distinguish  between  what  is 
really  good,  and  what  is  merely  entertaining  for  the  mo- 
ment, A  good  novel  preserves,  in  memorable  form,  some 
record  of  human  nature  which  is  true  to  life.  The  gen- 
eral run  of  trashy  stories  do  little  more  than  put  a  set  of 
wooden  puppets  through  a  series  of  mechanical  and  mean- 
ingless antics. 

The  greatest  figure  in  English  literature,  if  not  in  all 
literature,  is  Shakspere.  He  owes  his  preeminence  not 
only  to  the  beauty  and  splendor  of  his  poetry,  but,  even 
more,  to  his  unfailing  insight  into  human  nature  in  all 
its  variety  and  all  its  depths,  and  to  his  ability  to  portray 
it  adequately  in  speech  and  action.  Most  of  his  dramatic 
material  was  common  to  the  playwrights  of  his  day. 
Tragedies  of  revenge  were  familiar  to  the  London  play- 
goer at  the  end  of  the  sixteenth  century.  All  of  them 
are  forgotten,  except  by  scholars;  yet  "Hamlet"  survives 
because  Shakspere  inspired  the  persons  of  the  drama  with 
such  life  that  we  cannot  bring  ourselves  to  regard  them 
as  fictitious.  Men  still  discuss  the  character  of  Hamlet  as 
seriously  as  they  discuss  the  character  of  Napoleon.  V\'e 
can  a-k  no  better  proof  that  literature,  as  much  as  sci- 
ence', embodies  I  ruth. 


78  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

EXEKCISES  IX  NARRATION 
Outlines 

The  plan  or  outline  of  a  story  may  be  drawn  up  in  the  form  of 
a  table.  Such  outlines  are  useful  in  studying  narration  ;  for,  in 
making  them,  one  is  forced  to  notice  the  order  and  connection  of 
the  incidents,  the  nature  and  position  of  the  climax  (p.  37),  and, 
in  short,  the  whole  structure  of  the  -story.  They  are  also  practi- 
cally serviceable  in  preparing  for  recitation.  The  following 
outline  of  Mr.  Kipling's  "  Rikki-tikki-tavi "  will  serve  as  an 
example :  — 

1.  Introduction.    (Description  of  Rikki  ;  setting;  Rikki  taken 
into  the  family.) 

2.  Darzee's  woful  tale. 

3.  Rikki  encounters  Nag  and  Nagaina. 

4.  Rikki  kills  the  dust  snake. 

5.  Rikki's  interview  with  Chuchundra. 

6.  Rikki  overhears  Nag's  plot. 

7.  Rikki  kills  Nag  in  the  bathroom. 

8.  Rikki  destroys  all  Nagaina's  eggs  but  one. 

9.  Rikki  tricks  Nagaina  and  saves  Teddy. 

10.  Battle  with  Nagaina.    (Climax.) 

11.  Conclusion. 

Oral  Exercises  in  Story-Telling 
In  each  of  the  following  exercises,  — 

I.  Think  out  your  story. 
II.  Prepare  an  outline  of  your  story. 
III.  Tell  the  story,  using  the  outline  to  guide  you. 

1.  Recount  some  anecdote  of  your  childhood. 

2.  Tell  the  story  of  "  Horatius  at  the  Bridge." 

3.  Recite  some  anecdote  of  your  school  experience. 

4.  Give  an  account  of  a  picnic  in  which  you  have  taken  part. 

5.  Outline    briefly  one    of   the   stories   told  in   Longfellow's 
"  Tales  of  a  Wayside  Inn  "  ;  in  Irving's  "  Tales  of  a  Traveller." 

6.  Tell  in  your  own  words  one  of  /Esop's  fables. 


EXERCISES  IN  NARRATION  79 

7.  Imagine  that  you  are  asked  to  carry  a  message.  Give  an 
account  (1)  of  the  conversation  between  yourself  and  the  sender 
of  the  message ;  (2)  of  your  endeavor  to  fulfil  the  commission  ; 
(3)  of  the  conversation  between  yourself  and  the  person  to  whom 
the  message  is  sent.  Recite  the  story  as  if  you  were  telling  it  to 
a  third  person.  Recite  it  as  if  you  were  telling  the  story  to  the 
person  who  sent  the  message. 

8.  Prepare  to  tell  to  the  class  some  interesting  anecdote  that 
you  have  read. 

9.  Repeat  a  story  that  you  have  read  in  one  of  the  recent 
magazines. 

10.  Two  boys  are  quarrelling.  Their  father  separates  them 
and  demands  an  explanation.  Explain  to  the  father,  as  one  of  the 
boys  might  have  done,  the  circumstances  leading  to  the  quarrel. 

11.  A  student  comes  to  the  class  unprepared.  After  the  recita- 
tion the  teacher  asks  him  to  explain  his  failure.  Recount  the 
train  of  circumstances  which  prevented  the  preparation  of  the 
lesson. 

12.  Find  in  your  History  some  account  of  an  important  event. 
Make  an  outline  of  the  order  of  occurrences,  and  recite  to  the 
class  from  the  outline. 

13.  Select  an  incident  from  some  novel  (as  "  David  Copper- 
field,"  for  example).  Repeat  the  incident  in  your  own  words, 
taking  care  to  explain  the  circumstances  so  that  your  story  may 
be  understood  by  the  hearer. 

14.  Prepare  the  story  of  an  accident  which  might  occur  with  a 
bicycle,  an  automobile,  a  pump,  or  some  other  machine. 

In  order  to  make  the  accident  plain,  explain  the  working  of 
the  machine  when  it  is  in  order,  naming  the  parts. 

Action   (p.  32) 

1.  Bring  to  the  class  some  piece  of  narration.  Point  out  the 
means  by  which  the  writer  has  indicated  action  on  the  part  of 
his  characters. 

2.  Read  Browning's  "Incident  of  the  French  Camp."  Then 
tell  the  story  as  briefly  and  vividly  as  you  can.  Compare  the 
movement  of  your  story  with   that   of  tin'  poem. 

3.  Read  "The  Charge  of  the  Light  Brigade"  How  does  it 
illustrate  action  in  narration? 


80  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

4.  Outline  a  story  of  something  that  you  have  done,  putting 
in  nothing  but  action. 

5.  Read  Scott's  "Lochinvar"  (pp.  20-21).  Make  a  list  of 
the  words  that  express  or  suggest  action  in  any  way. 

6.  Embody  in  a  letter  an  account  of  a  day  in  the  mountains, 
telling  what  you  did.  Aim  to  make  the  account  effective  by  em- 
ploying words  which  express  action. 

7.  Get  a  copy  of  Southey's  "  How  the  Waters  Come  Down  at 
Lodore."  Study  the  means  used  to  express  action.  (Sidney  Lanier's 
"  Song  of  the  Chattahoochee  "  may  be  studied  in  the  same  way. 
»  Hohenlinden,"  "  Marco  Bozzaris,"  and  "  The  Rising  in  76  " 
would  also  be  effective  in  such  study.) 

8.  Write  two  brief  telegrams  in  which  you  express,  in  con- 
densed form,  all  the  action  possible.  Expand  each  telegi-am  into 
a  letter,  preserving  the  effect  of  action  so  far  as  you  can. 

9.  Write  a  letter  to  a  friend,  telling  what  you  have  done  dur- 
ing the  past  week.  Rewrite  the  letter,  giving  particular  attention 
to  action. 

10.  Tell  a  story  from  Greek  or  Scandinavian  mythology.  (See 
Bulfinch's  "  Age  of  Fable  "  or  Gayley's  "  Classic  Myths.")  Attend 
particularly  to  action. 

Introduction  (p.  42) 

1.  Select  from  some  story  with  which  you  are  familiar  a  brief 
bit  of  narrative  or  conversation.  Preface  the  extract  with  such 
introductory  matter  as  seems  to  you  suitable.  Make  the  intro- 
duction as  clear  and  concise  as  possible. 

2.  Study  some  narrative  poem  with  which  you  are  familiar, 
and  describe  in  writing  the  poet's  introduction  to  the  story. 

3.  Tell  one  of  iEsop's  fables  in  your  own  words.  If  the  story 
is  formally  introduced,  describe  the  introduction.  If  the  writer 
has  omitted  the  introduction,  give  reasons  for  the  omission. 

4.  Select  a  striking  incident  from  some  magazine  article. 
Copy  it  to  present  to  the  class,  writing  a  suitable  introduction. 
Your  introduction  should  state  the  source  of  your  selection  and 
should  properly  relate  the  incident  to  the  main  article. 

5.  Find  some  story  (in  prose  or  verse)  in  which  the  explana- 
tory matter  is  brought  in  after  the  story  is  under  way  (as  in  Loch- 
invar, p.  20). 


EXERCISES  IN   NARRATION  81 

6.  Study  the  poems  mentioned  on  page  3G,  with  special  refer- 
ence to  introduction.  Write  the  story  of  one  of  these,  with  an 
introduction  ;  without  an  introduction. 

7.  Study  the  following  stories  by  Irving  and  proceed  as  in 
Exercise  6  :  —  "  The  Spectre  Bridegroom,"  "  The  Adventure  of 
my  Uncle,"  "The  Mysterious  Picture." 

8.  Pick  out  one  or  two  incidents  from  "  Robinson  Crusoe  " 
or  Stevenson's  "Kidnapped,"  and  see  how  little  preliminary 
explanation  will  suffice  to  make  them  into  complete  stories. 

Note.  — The  students  may  be  required  to  write  this  preliminary  matter 
in  the  form  of  a  brief  introduction ;  or  one  student  may  report  on  the  sub- 
ject orally,  and  the  rest  may  join  in  the  discussion.  In  either  case,  stress 
should  be  laid  on  brevity.  If  an  incident  is  selected  which  needs  no 
introduction,  that  fact  should  be  emphasized. 

9.  Turn  to  such  plays  of  Shakspere  as  you  have  read,  and 
observe  the  way  in  which  they  begin.  Compare  what  was  said  of 
"Julius  Caesar"  on  page  44. 

10.  Report,  in  the  form  of  a  story,  the  endeavors  of  Cassius  to 
bring  Brutus  into  the  conspiracy.  Begin  with  an  introduction, 
stating  the  circumstances. 

11.  Tell  the  same  story  without  an  introduction.  Begin  with  a 
conversation  between  Brutus  and  Cassius. 

12.  Study  the  introductory  paragraph  in  "  The  Story  of  a  Fire  " 
(p.  13),  and  then  write  a  similar  introduction  for  some  story  of  a 
startling  event  or  description  of  a  striking  scene. 

Conclusion  (p.  46) 

1.  Read  the  narrative  selections  contained  in  this  book,  with 
particular  reference  to  the  conclusion  of  each,  observing  whether 
it  is  a  brief  summary,  a  moral  or  logical  conclusion,  or  a  mere 
formal  ending. 

Write  a  brief  statement  to  suit  each  case,  giving  reasons  for 
your  decision.  If  the  formal  conclusion  is  omitted,  show  why  it 
is  unnecessary. 

2.  From  the  material  which  you  an'  studying  in  history  or 
literature,  select  a  brief  narrative  in  which  the  author  has  made 
a  good  conclusion.  Bring  your  story  to  the  class  and  present  the 
chief  characteristics  of  the  conclusion. 


82  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

3.  Find  a  short  anecdote  which  has  a  distinct  point  and  ends 
when  the  point  is  made.    How  do  the  details  lead  up  to  the  point? 

4.  Copy  some  fable  in  which  the  moral  is  expressed.  Recite 
your  fable  to  the  class,  and  be  prepared  to  discuss  the  effect  of 
the  moral. 

5.  Invent  a  fable.  Try  to  tell  it  so  that  no  moral  is  necessary, 
but  state  in  a  brief  sentence  the  truth  that  you  intend  the  fable 
to  illustrate.  Bring  the  fable  to  the  class  for  criticism,  and  there 
decide  whether  the  moral  should  be  appended  or  not. 

6.  Examine  the  stories  in  Kipling's  "  Jungle  Book  "  with  ref- 
erence to  conclusion.    Write  one  of  them  from  memory. 

7.  Examine  the  poems  and  stories  mentioned  in  Exercises  6 
and  7  on  page  81,  with  reference  to  conclusion. 

8.  Examine  a  few  well-known  stories,  —  "  Ivanhoe,"  "  A  Tale 
of  Two  Cities,"  "  Silas  Marner,"  one  of  Cooper's  tales,  some  of 
Miss  Jewett's  or  Miss  Wilkins's  shorter  stories,  or  "  Tom  Brown's 
School-Days,"  and  observe  the  concluding  chapter,  paragraph,  or 
sentence  in  each.  Be  prepared  to  describe  these  conclusions  in 
an  oral  report  to  the  class. 

9.  Select  an  incident  from  "  Cranford."  Write  it  in  your  own 
words,  with  a  suitable  conclusion. 

Point  of  View  (p.  49) 

The  following  exercises  afford  practice  in  telling  the  same 
story  from  different  points  of  view.  Use  either  the  first  or  the 
third  person,  as  seems  better  in  each  case.  Observe  that  the  inci- 
dents that  are  included  depend  in  part  on  who  is  telling  the  story. 

1.  Tell  the  story  of  "  The  Wreck  of  the  Hesperus  "  as  if  you 
were  the  sailor  who  discovered  the  child's  body  on  the  beach. 

2.  Tell  the  story  of  "  Lochinvar  "  as  an  historian  might  tell 
it.    Observe  how  the  order  differs  from  that  of  the  poem. 

3.  Tell  the  same  story  as  the  hero  might  have  told  it  years 
afterward  ;  as  the  bride  might  have  told  it ;  as  the  bride's  father 
might  have  told  it. 

4.  Study  Wordsworth's  "We  are  Seven,"  and  tell  the  story  as 
the  little  girl  might  have  told  it  to  her  mother. 

5.  Tell  the  story  of  "  Mabel  Martin  "  as  Mabel  might  have 
told  it. 


EXERCISES  IN  NARRATION  83 

6.  Read  Jean  Ingelow's  poem,  "  The  High  Tide  on  the  Coast 
of  Lincolnshire."  Then  write  the  story  in  a  manner  likely  to 
interest  children. 

7.  Tell  the  story  of  a  railroad  accident  (1)  as  a  good  reporter 
would  tell  it;  (2)  as  a  child  who  was  injured  might  tell  it ;  (3)  as 
a  spectator  might  report  it ;  (-4)  as  a  man  who  escaped  unhurt 
might  tell  it ;  (5)  as  the  engineer  might  tell  it. 

8.  A  boys'  club  is  studying  history.  Tell  them  the  story  of 
"  Paul  Revere's  Ride." 

First,  explain  briefly  the  conditions  that  made  the  ride  neces- 
sary. Then  proceed  with  the  story  itself.  Remember  that  the 
boys  will  not  listen  unless  you  make  the  subject  interesting. 

Compare  the  order  of  your  story  with  the  order  in  Longfellow's 
poem.  How  does  Longfellow  introduce  the  facts  that  you  have 
put  into  your  introductory  statement  ?  Are  there  other  differences 
of  order  ? 

9.  Two  boys  are  rowing  on  a  lake.  Their  boat  capsizes.  One 
of  them  swims  to  the  shore ;  the  other  cannot  swim,  but  clings 
to  the  skiff  until  he  is  rescued  by  a  bystander. 

Describe  the  rescue  (1)  in  the  words  of  the  boy  who  swam  to 
the  shore,  deserting  his  companion;  (2)  as  if  you  were  the 
bystander  ;  (3)  as  if  you  were  the  father  of  the  boy  who  clung  to 
the  skiff. 

10.  Two  boys  are  playing  ball  in  the  street.  Suddenly  their 
ball  crashes  through  a  large  .plate-glass  window  in  a  drug  store. 
One  boy  runs  away  and  hides  behind  a  bush.  The  other  boy 
walks  up  to  the  drug  store,  explains  the  accident  to  the  proprietor, 
and  asks  what  he  can  do  to  make  up  for  the  damage. 

Tell  the  story  (1)  as  the  second  boy  might  have  told  it  upon 
his  return  home,  including  the  conversation  between  him  and  the 
proprietor ;  (2)  as  the  angry  druggist  might  have  told  it ;  (3)  from 
the  point  of  view  of  the  boy  who  hid  behind  the  bush. 

11.  A  little  girl  follows  a  procession.  She  is  lost  and  tries  to 
find  her  way  home.  She  is  met  and  recognized  by  the  milkman, 
who  carries  her  with  him  over  his  route,  and  returns  her  to  her 
home  in  the  evening. 

(1)  Tell  the  story  as  if  it  had  happened  in  the  city  ;  (2)  in  the 
country ;  (3)  report  the  incident  for  a  newspaper ;  (4)  tell  it  from 
the  milkman's  point  of  view,  inserting  conversation  ;  (5)  give  the 


84  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

child's  version  of  the  incident;    (6)  tell  the  whole  story  as  the 
child's  mother  might  have  told  it  to  a  sympathetic  neighbor  some 

days  afterwards. 

12.  Boys  follow  an  organ  grinder,  making  an  uproar  whenever 

he  attempts  to  play. 

Tell  the  story  (1)  from  the  boys'  point  of  view;  (2)  from  that 
of  the  organ  grinder;  (3)  from  that  of  a  citizen  who  observed 
the  proceedings  and  sent  the  boys  home. 

13.  Mary  Blake  has  come  to  a  city  school  from  her  home  in 
the  country.  She  is  not  accustomed  to  the  routine  of  the  new 
school  and  sometimes  makes  awkward  mistakes. 

The  teacher  asks  Mary  to  take  a  note  to  the  principal.  Mary 
attempts  to  leave  the  room,  but  opens  the  closet  door  instead  and 
walks  into  the  closet.  The  pupils  laugh  boisterously,  and  she 
leaves  the  room  in  confusion.    The  teacher  reproves  the  class. 

Write  the  story  (1)  as  Mary  told  it  to  her  mother;  (2)  as  a 
sympathetic  girl  friend  told  it;  (3)  as  a  chivalrous  boy  might 
have  told  it  to  a  comrade  after  school. 

14.  A  boy  of  fourteen  is  fishing  from  a  wharf.  A  child  of  four 
is  playing  on  the  wharf  and  falls  into  the  water.  The  boy,  who 
is  a  good  swimmer,  throws  off  his  jacket,  plunges  into  the  water, 
and  rescues  the  child. 

Write  the  story  (1)  as  the  child's  mother  might  have  told  it ; 
(2)  as  if  you  were  a  newspaper  reporter ;  (3)  in  a  modest,  straight- 
forward manner,  as  the  boy  might  tell  it. 

15.  A  boy  of  ten  visits  the  zoological  gardens  with  his  father. 
Tell  the  story  of  his  visit  (1)  as  the  father  might  tell  it;  (2)  as 
the  boy  might  tell  it ;  (3)  as  the  boy's  mother,  who  stayed  at 
home,  might  tell  it. 

Setting  or  Background  (p.  52) 

1.  Review  the  exercises  on  Introduction  (pp.  80-81),  observing 
to  what  extent  the  introduction  determines  the  setting  in  each  case. 

2.  Examine  five  of  Hawthorne's  "  Twice-Told  Tales  "  with 
reference  to  setting. 

3.  Write  stories  suggested  by  those  mentioned  in  the  exercises 
on  p.  81,  but  with  a  different  setting. 

4.  Write  a  story  about  something  which  happened  on  a  rainy 
day  in  the  mountains;  during  a  moonlight  sail  on  the  lake;  in  a 


EXERCISES  IN  NARRATION  85 

snowstorm  ;  in  New  York  («)  under  Dutch  government,  (b)  under 
English  government,  (c)  in  Revolutionary  times. 

5.  Write  a  story  in  which  the  setting  is  taken  from  modern 
city  life  ;  from  life  in  ancient  Rome  ;  in  the  Arctic  regions ;  in 
Arabia ;  at  sea  ;  on  the  prairie  ;  on  a  coral  island. 

6.  Write  a  story  suggested  by  the  San  Francisco  earthquake. 
You  may  secure  your  materials  from  the  papers  and  magazines 
in  which  it  was  described.  Your  story  may  be  imaginary,  sug- 
gested by  descriptions  which  you  have  read,  or  based  upon  an 
actual  experience. 

7.  Read  the  first  chapter  of  "Ivanhoe,"  to  discover  (1)  what 
the  author  has  included  in  his  introduction,  and  (2)  how  the  con- 
versation between  Gurth  and  Wamba  adds  to  your  knowledge  of 
the  relation  between  Saxon  and  Norman,  at  the  time  of  the  story. 
Why  is  this  relation  so  emphasized  in  the  story  ?  In  what  other 
places  and  ways  is  it  indicated? 

8.  Tell  a  story  with  a  setting  similar  to  that  in  Mr.  Kipling's 
«  Rikki-tikki-tavi." 

9.  Write  a  story  entitled  "  Adrift."  Think  of  the  setting 
before  you  begin. 

10.  Tell  the  story  of  Darnay's  trial  at  the  Old  Bailey.    Give 
particular  attention  to  setting.1 

Conversation  (p.  59) 

1.  Imagine  yourself  a  witness  of  the  fire  described  by  Mr. 
Riis  (p.  13).  On  returning  home,  you  tell  your  sister  what  you 
have  seen  and  heard.  Report  the  conversation  in  such  a  manner 
as  to  rehearse  the  story  of  the  fire. 

2.  Tell  the  story  of  Wordsworth's  "  We  are  Seven,"  entirely 
in  the  third  person,  omitting  direct  quotations.  Compare  your 
story  with  the  poem,  noting  the  effect  of  the  conversation. 

3.  Bring  to  the  class  some  story  (either  in  verse  or  prose) 
which  is  told  chiefly  by  means  of  conversation.  Read  it  to  the 
class,  and  ask  questions  to  direct  their  study  of  the  story. 

4.  Read  to  the  class  a  selection  from  Cooper  in  which  the 
narrative  is  carried  on  by  means  of  conversation. 

1  The  Exercises   in   Description   (pp.  134-144)   afford  opportunity   for 
further  practice  in  setting. 


86  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

5.  Bring  to  the  class  some  short  story  (from  a  magazine)  which 
illustrates  the  effective  use  of  conversation.  Make  specific  com- 
ments showing  the  effectiveness  of  the  dialogue. 

6.  A  common  fault  in  narrative  which  reports  conversation  is  the 
frequent  introduction  of  "  said  I,"  "  said  he,"  "  I  said,"  "  he  said." 

Report  a  conversation,  attempting  to  avoid  this  fault.  Sug- 
gest other  phrases  by  which  "  says  he,"  "  said  I "  may  be  replaced. 

Note.  — Observe  that  "  says  I  "  is  never  allowable.  Under  what  cir- 
cumstances might  "  says  she  "  and  "  he  says  "  be  appropriate? 

7.  Tell  the  story  of  Rumpelstiltskin  (p.  14)  as  briefly  as  pos- 
sible, omitting  all  conversation. 

8.  Write  an  anecdote  in  which  the  point  of  the  story  is  intro- 
duced in  conversation.  After  writing,  cut  out  the  superfluous 
conversation.  Study  to  make  your  story  as  concise  and  effective 
as  possible. 

9.  Read  Longfellow's  "  Wreck  of  the  Hesperus "  observing 
the  effectiveness  of  the  conversation  that  is  introduced.  Find 
some  other  narrative  poem  in  which  the  author  employs  conver- 
sation. Compare  the  two,  giving  special  attention  to  the  point 
of  the  narrative  and  to  the  omission  of  unnecessary  details. 

10.  Write  an  anecdote  consisting  merely  of  a  brief  intro- 
duction, a  conversation,  and  a  conclusion.  The  anecdote  need  not 
be  original,  but  its  form  may  be  adapted  for  this  exercise. 

11.  Read  from  "  Ivanhoe  "  the  conversation  in  which  Rebecca 
describes  to  Ivanhoe  the  assault  upon  the  Castle  of  Front-de- 
Bceuf.  Observe  that  the  author  employs  the  conversation  to  con- 
tinue his  narrative.  Note,  too,  the  vividness  of  the  description 
and  the  continuous  action  in  the  story. 

After  reading,  make  a  brief  outline  from  which  you  may  pre- 
sent orally  the  substance  of  the  narrative,  but  without  repeating 
the  conversation. 

What  is  gained,  in  this  case,  by  the  use  of  the  dialogue  ? 

Uses  of  Incident  (p.  65) 

1.  Collect  what  is  said  of  Gurth's  encounter  with  the  outlaws 
on  pages  66-67  of  this  book.  Using  what  you  find  on  these  pages 
as  material,  explain,  in  your  own  words,  the  purposes  or  functions 
of  this  episode  in  the  novel  of  "  Ivanhoe." 


EXERCISES  IX  XARRATIOX  87 

2.  Find  a  number  of  episodes  in  "  Ivanhoe." 

Show  how  they  serve  to  define  setting,  or  character,  or  both. 
Show  how  they  arise  naturally  from  the  plot. 
Could  the  purpose  of  these  episodes  have  been  served  by 
description  or  explanation  ?    Give  reasons  for  your  answer. 

3.  Repeat  Exercise  2  with  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  ;  with 
"  Treasure  Island  "  ;  with  "  Kidnapped." 

4.  Read  Chapter  vin  of  Dickens's  "Tale  of  Two  Cities." 
Use  the  chapter  as  an  example  of  action,  of  incident,  of  descrip- 
tion, and  of  detail  in  narration. 

5.  Read,  in  "Ivanhoe,"  the  chapters  which  describe  the 
tournament. 

1.  Write  an  outline,  in  detail,  showing  your  analysis  of  the 

description. 

2.  Show  the  effect  of  the  incidents  which  are  included  in 

the  story. 

3.  Show  how  vividness,  or  some  other  quality,  is  secured  by 

conversation. 

6.  Study  the  character  of  Rebecca,  in  "  Ivanhoe." 

1.  Read  with  the  purpose  of  becoming  acquainted  with  her 

character  ;  note  what  she  says,  what  she  does,  and 
what  is  said  of  her.  When  you  have  thus  prepared, 
write  a  short  description  of  her  character. 

2.  Read  again,  to  discover  the  means  by  which  Scott  has 

made  Rebecca's  character  clear  to  you.  Make  notes, 
and  be  ready  to  illustrate  and  explain  his  method. 

7.  Describe  Miss  Matty  (in  "  Cranford"). 

By  what  means  does  Mrs.  Gaskell  help  you  to  understand 
and  appreciate  Miss  Matty  V1 

Complication  of  Plot  (p.  G8) 

1.  Report,  in  writing,  the  plot  of  some  story  which  you 
have  read. 

2.  Make  an  outline  of  those  incidents  in  "  Ivanhoe  "  which 
are  absolutely  necessary  to  the  plot.  Your  outline  may  begin  as 
follows :  — 

1.  The  Prior  and  the  Templar  visit  Rotherwood.    (On  this 
depends  the  challenge) 
1  For  further  practice  in  Characterization  see  Exercises  in  Exposition. 


88  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

2.  The  Palmer  aids  Isaac.    (In  gratitude,  Isaac  furnishes 

Ivanhoe  with  armor  and  thus  enables  him  to  enter  the 
tournament.) 

3.  The  tournament.    (This  introduces  the  Black  Knight 

[King  Richard]  and  brings  the  wounded  Ivanhoe  under 
Rebecca's  care.) 

4.  Prince  John    suggests   that  De  Bracy  marry  Rowena. 

(This  leads  to  the  capture  of  Cedric's  party,  their 
imprisonment  at  Torquilstone,  and  the  attack  on  the 
castle.) 
3.  Make  an  outline  (as  in  Exercise  2)    for  part  of  "A  Tale 

of  Two  Cities  "  ;    "  Treasure  Island  "  ;    "  Kidnapped  "  ;    "  Lorna 

Doone." 

Miscellaneous  Exercises 

1.  You  have  been  spending  the  vacation  with  a  friend  who 
lives  in  another  state.  Write  to  your  friends  at  home,  giving  an 
account  of  your  vacation. 

2.  You  have  travelled  by  sea  from  Savannah  to  Boston. 
In  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  your  own  age,  tell  some  of  the  incidents 
of  your  passage. 

3.  Write  a  letter  to  an  old  gentleman  who  is  a  friend  of  yours, 
describing  a  day  which  you  have  spent  in  the  scene  of  his  boyhood. 

4.  Write  to  a  child,  relating  an  amusing  incident  which  has 
happened  in  your  experience. 

5.  Tell  the  story  of  Washington's  winter  at  Valley  Forge ; 
of  Arnold's  treason ;  of  the  death  of  Wolfe.  How  do  these  stories 
illustrate  character? 

6.  Select  from  the  writings  of  Thoreau,  Mr.  John  Burroughs, 
Mr.  Ernest  Thompson  Seton,  or  Mr.  William  J.  Long  some  account 
of  the  life  of  an  animal.  Note  particularly  the  details  which  the 
writer  has  observed  and  has  introduced  into  his  account. 

7.  Imagine  that  a  stranger,  perhaps  a  foreigner,  comes  to 
your  town  as  Franklin  went  to  Philadelphia.  Tell  the  story  of 
his  first  day  as  he  might  have  related  it  afterwards. 

8.  Tell  the  story  of  a  boy  who  was  lost  in  the  woods  and  was 
compelled  to  spend  the  night  there.  Describe  his  anxiety  when 
he  realized  that  he  had  lost  his  way,  his  efforts  to  find  it,  his 
night  in  the  woods,  and  the  accident  by  which  he  found  his  way  out. 


CHAPTER  III 

DESCRIPTION 

Four  characteristic  examples  of  description,  in  different 
styles,  are  printed  on  pages  89-95,  and  these  should  be 
carefully  read  before  the  discussion  of  the  subject  is  taken 
tip  (p.  96). 

The  first,  "  The  Inn  Kitchen,"  from  Irving 's  "Sketch  Book," 
gives  a  lively  picture  of  common  life.  It  is  written  in  an  easy 
but  highly  finished  style. 

The  second,  <<  An  Iceberg,"  from  Dana's  "  Two  Years  before 
the  Mast,"  is  full  of  color  and  movement;  in  style  it  is  direct 
and  unpretentious. 

The  third,  "  The  Old  Boat,"  from  Dickens's  "  David  Copper- 
field,"  is  a  good  example  of  the  use  of  details  to  produce  the 
effect  of  reality- 

The  fourth,  Miss  Mitford's  <<  Country  in  Winter,"  from  "  Our 
Village,"  is  somewhat  more  formal  ;  it  expresses  the  feelings  of 
a  cultivated  mind  toward  nature. 

I.    THE  INN  KITCHEN  i 

By  Washington  Irving 

During  a  journey  that  I  once  made  through  the  Nether- 
lands, I  had  arrived  one  evening  at  the  Pontine  d'Or,  the  prin- 
cipal inn  (jf  a  small  Flemish  village.  It  was  after  the  hour  of 
the  table  d'hote,  so  that  I  was  obliged  to  make  a  solitary  supper 
from  the  relics  of  its  ampler  board.  The  weather  was  chilly;  I 
was  seated  alone  in  one  end  of  a  great  gloomy  (lining-room,  and, 
my  repast  being  over,  I  had  the  prospect  before  me  of  a  long 

1  From  "  The  Sketch  Book  "  (New  York,  Q.  P.  Putnam's  Sons). 

89 


90  COMPOSITION  AND  RIIETOPJC 

dull  evening,  without  any  visible  means  of  enlivening  it.    I  sum- 
moned mine  host,  and  requested  something  to  read  ;  he  brought 
me  the  whole  literary   stock  of  his  household,  a  Dutch  family 
Bible,  an  almanac  in  the  same  language,  and  a  number  of  old 
Paris  newspapers.    As  I  sat  dozing  over  one  of  the  latter,  reading- 
old  and  stale  criticisms,  my  ear  was  now  and  then  struck  with 
bursts  of  laughter  which  seemed  to  proceed  from  the  kitchen. 
Every  one  that  has  travelled  on  the  continent  must  know  how 
favorite  a  resort  the  kitchen  of  a  country  inn  is  to  the  middle 
and  inferior  order  of  travellers  ;  particularly  in  that  equivocal 
kind  of  weather  when  a  fire  becomes  agreeable  toward  evening. 
I  threw  aside  the  newspaper,  and  explored  my  way  to  the  kitchen, 
to  take  a  peep  at  the  group  that  appeared  to  be  so  merry.    It  was 
composed  partly  of  travellers  who  had  arrived  some  hours  before 
in  a  diligence,  and  partly  of  the  usual  attendants  and  hangers- 
on  of  inns.    They  were  seated  round  a  great  burnished  stove, 
that  might  have  been  mistaken  for  an  altar  at  which  they  were 
worshipping.    It  was  covered  with  various  kitchen   vessels  of 
resplendent  brightness  ;  among  which  steamed  and  hissed  a  huge 
copper  tea-kettle.    A  large  lamp  threw  a  strong  mass  of  light 
upon  the  group,  bringing  out  many  odd  features  in  strong  relief. 
Its  yellow  rays  partially  illumined  the  spacious  kitchen,  dying 
duskily  away  into  remote  corners  ;  except  where  they  settled  in 
mellow  radiance  on  the  broad  side  of  a  flitch  of  bacon,  or  were 
reflected  back  from  well-scoured  utensils,  that  gleamed  from  the 
midst  of  obscurity.    A  strapping  Flemish  lass,  with  long  golden 
pendants  in  her  ears,  and  a  necklace  with  a  golden  heart  suspended 
to  it,  was  the  presiding  priestess  of  the  temple. 

Many  of  the  company  were  furnished  with  pipes,  and  most 
of  them  with  some  kind  of  evening  potation.  I  found  their  mirth 
was  occasioned  by  anecdotes,  which  a  little  swarthy  Frenchman, 
with  a  dry  weazen  face  and  large  whiskers,  was  giving  of  his 
love  adventures  ;  at  the  end  of  each  of  which  there  was  one  of 
those  bursts  of  honest  unceremonious  laughter,  in  which  a  man 
indulges  in  that  temple  of  true  liberty,  an  inn. 


DESCRIPTION  91 

II.    AN  ICEBERG  i 
By  R.   H.  Dana 

This  day  the  sun  rose  fair,  but  it  ran  too  low  in  the  heavens  to 
give  any  heat,  or  thaw  out  our  sails  and  rigging  ;  yet  the  sight  of 
it  was  pleasant,  and  we  had  a  steady  "  reef -top-sail  breeze  "  from 
the  westward.  The  atmosphere,  which  had  previously  been  clear 
and  cold,  for  the  last  few  hours  grew  damp,  and  had  a  disagree- 
able, wet  chilliness  in  it ;  and  the  man  who  came  from  the  wheel 
said  he  heard  the  captain  tell  "  the  passenger  "  that  the  thermom- 
eter had  fallen  several  degrees  since  morning,  which  he  could  not 
account  for  in  any  other  way  than  by  supposing  that  there  must 
be  ice  near  us  ;  though  such  a  thing  had  never  been  heard  of  in 
this  latitude  at  this  season  of  the  year.  At  twelve  o'clock  we 
went  below,  and  had  just  got  through  dinner,  when  the  cook  put 
his  head  down  the  scuttle  and  told  us  to  come  on  deck  and  see 
the  finest  sight  that  we  had  ever  seen. 

"  Where  away,  cook?  "  asked  the  first  man  who  was  up. 

<<  On  the  larboard  bow." 

And  there  lay,  floating  on  the  ocean,  several  miles  off,  an 
immense,  irregular  mass,  its  tops  and  points  covered  with  snow, 
and  its  centre  of  a  deep  indigo  color.  This  was  an  iceberg,  and 
of  the  largest  size,  as  one  of  our  men  said  who  had  been  in  the 
Northern  ocean.  As  far  as  the  eye  could  reach,  the  sea  in  every 
direction  was  of  a  deep  blue  color,  the  waves  running  high  and 
fresh,  and  sparkling  in  the  light,  and  in  the  midst  lay  this  immense 
mountain-island,  its  cavities  and  valleys  thrown  into  deep  shade, 
and  its  points  and  pinnacles  glittering  in  the  sun.  All  hands 
were  soon  on  deck,  looking  at  it,  and  admiring  in  various  ways 
its  beauty  and  grandeur.  But  no  description  can  give  any  idea  of 
the  strangeness,  splendor,  and,  really,  the  sublimity,  of  the  sight. 
Its  great  size,  —  for  it  must  have  been  from  two  to  three  miles 
in  circumference  and  several  hundred  feet  in  height ;  its  slow 
motion,  as  its  base  rose  and  sank  in  the  water,  and  its  high  points 
nodded  against  the  clouds  ;  the  dashing  of  the  waves  upon  it, 
which, breaking  high  with  foam,  lined  its  base  with  a  white  crust ; 
and  the  thundering  sound  of  the  cracking  of  the  mass,  and  the 

i  From  "  Two  Year's  Before  The  Mast." 


92  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

breaking  and  tumbling  down  of  huge  pieces  ;  together  with  its 
nearness  and  approach,  which  added  a  slight  element  of  fear,  all 
combined  to  give  to  it  the  character  of  true  sublimity.  The  main 
body  of  the  mass  was,  as  I  have  said,  of  an  indigo  color,  its  base 
crusted  with  frozen  foam  ;  and  as  it  grew  thin  and  transparent 
toward  the  edges  and  top,  its  color  shaded  off  from  a  deep  blue 
to  the  whiteness  of  snow. 

It  seemed  to  be  drifting  slowly  toward  the  north,  so  that  we 
kept  away  and  avoided  it.  It  was  in  sight  all  the  afternoon  ;  and 
when  we  got  to  leeward  of  it,  the  wind  died  away,  so  that  we 
lay-to  quite  near  it  for  a  great  part  of  the  night.  Unfortunately, 
there  was  no  moon,  but  it  was  a  clear  night,  and  we  could  plainly 
mark  the  long,  regular  heaving  of  the  stupendous  mass,  as  its 
edges  moved  slowly  against  the  stars,  now  revealing  them,  and  now 
shutting  them  in.  Several  times  in  our  watch  loud  cracks  were 
heard,  which  sounded  as  though  they  must  have  run  through  the 
whole  length  of  the  iceberg,  and  several  pieces  fell  down  with  a 
thundering  crash,  plunging  heavily  into  the  sea.  Toward  morn- 
ing, a  strong  breeze  sprang  up,  and  we  filled  away,  and  left  it 
astern,  and  at  daylight  it  was  out  of  sight. 


III.    THE  OLD  BOAT1 

By  Charles  Dickens 

Ham  was  waiting  for  us  at  the  public-house  ;  and  asked  me 
how  I  found  myself,  like  an  old  acquaintance.  I  did  not  feel, 
at  first,  that  I  knew  him  as  well  as  he  knew  me,  because  he  had 
never  come  to  our  house  since  the  night  I  was  born,  and  naturally 
he  had  the  advantage  of  me.  But  our  intimacy  was  much 
advanced  by  his  taking  me  on  his  back  to  carry  me  home.  He 
was,  now,  a  huge,  strong  fellow  of  six  feet  high,  broad  in  propor- 
tion, and  round-shouldered  ;  but  with  a  simpering  boy's  face  and 
curly  light  hair  that  gave  him  quite  a  sheepish  look.  He  was 
dressed  in  a  canvas  jacket,  and  a  pair  of  such  very  stiff  trousers 
that  they  would  have  stood  quite  as  well  alone,  without  any  legs 
in  them.  And  you  couldn't  so  properly  have  said  he  wore  a  hat, 
as  that  he  was  covered  in  a-top,  like  an  old  building,  with  some- 
thing pitchy. 

i  From  "  David  Copperfield." 


DESCRIPTION  93 

Ham  carrying  me  on  his  back  and  a  small  box  of  ours  under 
his  arm,  and  Peggotty  carrying  another  small  box  of  ours,  we 
turned  down  lanes  bestrewn  with  bits  of  chips  and  little  hillocks 
of  sand,  and  went  past  gas-works,  rope-walks,  boat-builders'  yards, 
shipwrights'  yards,  ship-breakers' yards,  caulkers'  yards,  riggers' 
lofts,  smiths'  forges,  and  a  great  litter  of  such  places,  until  we 
came  out  upon  the  dull  waste  I  had  already  seen  at  a  distance ; 
when  Ham  said,  "  Yon  's  our  house,  Mas'r  Davy  !  " 

I  looked  in  all  directions,  as  far  as  I  coidd  stare  over  the  wil- 
derness, and  away  at  the  sea,  and  away  at  the  river,  but  no  house 
could  /  make  out.  There  was  a  black  barge,  or  some  other  kind 
of  superannuated  boat,  not  far  off,  high  and  dry  on  the  ground, 
with  an  iron  funnel  sticking  out  of  it  for  a  chimney  and  smoking 
very  cosily  ;  but  nothing  else  in  the  way  of  a  habitation  that  was 
visible  to  me. 

«  That 's  not  it?  "  said  I.    «  That  ship-looking  thing  ?  " 

"  That's  it,  Mas'r  Davy."  returned  Ham. 

If  it  had  been  Aladdin's  palace,  roc's  egg  and  all,  I  suppose  I 
could  not  have  been  more  charmed  with  the  romantic  idea  of  liv- 
ing in  it.  There  was  a  delightful  door  cut  in  the  side,  and  it  was 
roofed  in,  and  there  were  little  windows  in  it ;  but  the  wonderful 
charm  of  it  was,  that  it  was  a  real  boat  which  had  no  doubt  been 
upon  the  water  hundreds  of  times,  and  which  had  never  been 
intended  to  be  lived  in,  on  dry  land.  That  was  the  captivation 
of  it  to  me.  If  it  had  ever  been  meant  to  be  lived  in,  I  might 
have  thought  it  small,  or  inconvenient,  or  lonely  ;  but  never  hav- 
ing been  designed  for  any  such  use,  it  became  a  perfect  abode. 

It  was  beautifully  clean  inside,  and  as  tidy  as  possible.  There 
was  a  table,  and  a  Dutch  clock,  and  a  chest  of  drawers,  and  on 
the  chest  of  drawers  there  was  a  tea-tray  with  a  painting  on  it  of 
a  lady  with  a  parasol,  taking  a  walk  with  a  military-looking  child 
who  was  trundling  a  hoop.  The  tray  was  kept  from  tumbling 
down,  by  a  Bible  ;  and  the  tray,  if  it  had  tumbled  down,  would 
have  smashed  a  quantity  of  cups  ami  saucers  and  a  teapot  that 
were  grouped  around  the  book.  On  the  walls  there  were  some 
common  colored  pictures,  framed  and  glazed,  of  scripture  sub- 
jects; such  as  I  have  never  seen  since  in  the  hands  of  pedlars, 
without,  seeing  the  whole  interior  of  Peggotty's  brother's  house 
again,  at  one  view.  Abraham  in  red  going  to  sacrifice  Isaac  m 
blue,  and  Daniel  in  yellow  casl  into  a  den  of  green  lions,  were  the 


94  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

most  prominent  of  these.  Over  the  little  mantel -shelf  was  a  pic- 
ture of  the  Sarah  Jane  lugger,1  built  at  Sunderland,  with  a  real 
little  wooden  stern  stuck  on  to  it ;  a  work  of  art,  combining 
composition  2  with  carpentry,  which  I  considered  to  be  one  of  the 
most  enviable  possessions  that  the  world  could  afford.  There 
were  some  hooks  in  the  beams  of  the  ceiling,  the  use  of  which  I 
did  not  divine  then  ;  and  some  lockers  and  boxes  and  conven- 
iences of  that  sort,  which  served  for  seats  and  eked  out  the  chairs. 


IV.    THE  COUNTRY  IN  WINTER3 
By  Miss  Mitford 

Now  we  have  reached  the  trees,  —  the  beautiful  trees  !  never 
so  beautiful  as  to-day.  Imagine  the  effect  of  a  straight  and 
regular  double  avenue  of  oaks,  nearly  a  mile  long,  arching  over- 
head, and  closing  into  perspective  like  the  roof  and  columns  of  a 
cathedral,  every  tree  and  branch  incrusted  with  the  bright  and 
delicate  congelation  of  hoar-frost,  white  and  pure  as  snow,  deli- 
cate and  defined  as  carved  ivory.  How  beautiful  it  is,  how 
uniform,  how  various,  how  filling,  how  satiating  to  the  eye  and 
to  the  mind  —  above  all,  how  melancholy  !  There  is  a  thrilling 
awf ulness,  an  intense  feeling  of  simple  power  in  that  naked  and 
colorless  beauty,  which  falls  on  the  earth  like  the  thoughts  of 
death  —  death  pure,  and  glorious,  and  smiling,  — but  still  death. 
Sculpture  has  always  the  same  effect  on  my  imagination,  and 
painting  never.     Color  is  life. 

We  are  now  at  the  end  of  this  magnificent  avenue,  and  at  the 
top  of  a  steep  eminence  commanding  a  wide  view  over  four 
counties  —  a  landscape  of  snow.  A  deep  lane  leads  abruptly 
down  the  hill ;  a  mere  narrow  cart-track,  sinking  between  high 
banks  clothed  with  fern  and  furze  and  low  broom,  crowned  with 
luxuriant  hedgerows,  and  famous  for  their  summer  smell  of  thyme. 
How  lovely  these  banks  are  now  —  the  tall  weeds  and  the  gorse 
fixed  and  stiffened  in  the  hoar-frost,  which  fringes  round  the 
bright  prickly  holly,  the  pendent  foliage  of  the  bramble,  and  the 

1  A  kind  of  sailing  vessel. 

2  In  the  artist's  sense  (see  the  dictionary). 

3  From  "  Our  Village." 


DESCRIPTION  95 

deep  orange  leaves  of  the  pollard  oaks  !  O,  this  is  rime  in  its 
loveliest  form  !  And  there  is  still  a  berry  here  and  there  on  the 
holly,  "  1 'lushing  in  its  natural  coral  "  through  the  delicate  tracery, 
still  a  stray  hip  or  haw  for  the  birds,  who  abound  here  always. 

The  poor  birds,  how  tame  they  are,  how  sadly  tame  !  There 
is  the  beautiful  and  rare  crested  wren,  "  that  shadow  of  a  bird," 
as  White  of  Selborne  calls  it,  perched  in  the  middle  of  the  hedge, 
nestling  as  it  were  amongst  the  cold  bare  boughs,  seeking,  poor 
pretty  thing,  for  the  warmth  it  will  not  find.  And  there,  farther 
on,  just  under  the  bank,  by  the  slender  runlet,  which  still  trickles 
between  its  transparent  fantastic  margin  of  thin  ice,  as  if  it  were 
a  thing  of  life, — there,  with  a  swift,  scudding  motion,  flits,  in 
short  low  flights,  the  gorgeous  kingfisher,  its  magnificent  plumage 
of  scarlet  and  blue  flashing  in  the  sun,  like  the  glories  of  some 
tropical  bird.  He  is  come  for  water  to  this  little  spring  by  the 
hillside,  —  water  which  even  his  long  bill  and  slender  head  can 
hardly  reach,  so  nearly  do  the  fantastic  forms  of  those  garland- 
like icy  margins  meet  over  the  tiny  stream  beneath.  It  is  rarely 
that  one  sees  the  shy  beauty  so  close  so  long ;  and  it  is  pleasant 
to  see  him  in  the  grace  and  beauty  of  his  natural  liberty,  the 
only  way  to  look  at  a  bird. 

We  used,  before  we  lived  in  a  street,  to  fix  a  little  board  out- 
side the  parlor  window,  and  cover  it  with  bread  crumbs  in  the 
hard  weather.  It  was  quite  delightful  to  see  the  pretty  things 
come  and  feed,  to  conquer  their  shyness,  and  do  away  their  mis- 
trust. First  came  the  more  social  tribes,  "the  robin  redbreast 
and  the  wren,"  cautiously,  suspiciously,  picking  up  a  crumb  on 
the  wing,  "with  a  little  keen  bright  eye  fixed  on  the  window  ; 
then  they  would  stop  for  two  pecks  ;  then  stay  till  they  were 
satisfied.  The  shyer  birds,  tamed  by  their  example,  came  next ; 
and  at  last  one  saucy  fellow  of  a  blackbird  —  a  sad  glutton,  he 
would  clear  the  board  in  two  minutes,  —  used  to  tap  his  bill 
against  the  window  for  more.  How  we  loved  (he  fearless  confi- 
dence of  that  fine,  frank-hearted  creature  1  And  surely  he  loved 
us.  I  wonder  the  practice  is  not  more  general.  "  May  ! J  May  ! 
naughty  May  !  "  she  has  frightened  away  the  kingfisher  ;  and  now, 
in  her  coaxing  penitence,  she  is  covering  me  with  snow.  "  Come, 
pretty  May  !  it  is  time  to  go  home." 

1  May  was  the  writer's  pet  greyhound. 


96  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

DESCRIPTION  AND  EXPOSITION 

Description,  in  v  the  larger  sense,  includes  two  distinct 
kinds  of  composition. 

The  description  of  a  machine,  for  instance,  usually  con- 
sists in  an  exact  account  of  its  various  parts  and  of  the 
way  in  which  they  are  put  together.  The  botanical 
description  of  a  plant  is  of  much  the  same  kind.  Simi- 
larly, we  can  so  describe  a  house  by  giving  its  dimensions, 
etc.,  that  the  reader  may  draw  an  accurate  plan  of  the 
building.  All  such  description  is  explanatory ;  its  sole  object 
is  to  make  the  reader  understand. 

Contrast  the  following  passages,  the  first  describing  the 
human  hand,  the  second  describing  a  night  scene  in 
London : — 

The  skeleton  of  the  hand  exhibits,  in  the  region  which  we 
term  the  wrist,  and  which  is  technically  called  the  carpus  —  two 
rows  of  closely  fitted  polygonal  bones,  four  in  each  row,  which 
are  tolerably  equal  in  size.  The  bones  of  the  first  row  with  the 
bones  of  the  forearm  form  the  wrist  joint,  and  are  arranged  side  by 
side,  no  one  greatly  exceeding  or  overlapping  the  rest.  —  Huxley. 

Black  night  lay  over  the  city,  and  silence  ;  the  river  flowed 
unseen  through  the  darkness  ;  but  a  thousand  golden  points  of  fire 
mapped  out  the  lines  of  the  Embankment  and  the  long  curves  of 
the  distant  bridges.  The  infrequent  sounds  that  could  be  heard 
were  strangely  distinct,  even  when  they  were  faint  and  remote. 
There  was  a  slight  rustling  of  wind  in  the  trees  below  the 
window.  —  William  Black. 

We  feel  the  difference  instantly.  On  what  does  it 
depend?  The  answer  is,  "On  the  different  purpose  of 
the  writer."  In  descriptions  of  the  first  kind,  the  writer's 
object  is,  as  we  have  seen,  to  explain;  he  appeals  to  our 
understanding.  In  those  of  the  second  kind,  his  object  is 
to  call  up  in  our  minds  the  same  picture  that  he  has  in 


PICTURES  AND  DESCRIPTIONS  97 

his  own.  He  appeals  not  so  much  to  our  understanding 
as  to  our  imagination.  In  the  one  case  the  writer  tries 
to  make  us  understand ;  in  the  other,  he  tries  to  make 
us  see  and  feel. 

This  distinction  is  of  much  practical  importance;  for 
the  methods  followed  in  the  two  kinds  of  description 
differ  in  many  particulars.  All  scientific  and  technical 
description  belongs  to  the  first  class;  all  "literary"  and 
poetical  description  to  the  second.  For  convenience  w^e 
shall  hereafter  call  the  first  kind  exposition,  and  shall 
confine  the  term  description  to  the  second. 

Leaving  exposition  to  be  discussed  by-and-by,1  we  shall 
now  pass  to  the  study  of  description  in  the  more  limited 
sense. 

Note.  — The  student  should  not  infer  that  the  use  of  the  term  descrip- 
tion in  the  larger  sense  is  incorrect,  merely  because  it  is  convenient  to 
limit  the  application  of  the  word  in  the  present  discussion.  Many  terms 
are  well  established  in  both  a  general  and  a  particular  meaning.  Besides, 
there  can  be  no  sharp  line  drawn  between  description  and  exposition.  Thus 
the  introduction  in  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  is  addressed  both  to  the  under- 
standing and  to  the  imagination.  It  would  be  easy  to  make  out  a  continuous 
series,  from  exposition  pure  and  simple  to  the  most  highly  wrought  poetical 
description. 

PICTURES  AND  DESCRIPTIONS 

Suppose  you  wish  to  make  a  friend  see,  in  his  mind's 

eye,  some  place  or  object  that  has  interested  you,  and  t<> 

make  him  realize  the  impression  that  it  has  produced 

upon  your  own  mind  and  feelings.    There  are  two  ways 

of  doing  this:  (1)  by  means  of  a  picture;   (2)  by  means  of 

words,  —  that  is,  by  a  description.    Let  us  study  these  two 

ways  and  consider  what  advantages  each  has  over  the 

other. 

i  See  Chapter  iv. 


98  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

As  I  look  out  of  the  window,  I  see  a  number  of  trees,  a  black- 
smith's shop,  a  cart,  a  railroad  station  painted  red,  a  patch  of 
blue  sky,  a  little  strip  of  river,  also  blue,  two  piles  of  lumber,  and 
a  great  many  other  objects,  —  all  without  moving  my  eyes.  Fur- 
ther, the  objects  which  I  see  from  the  window  have  very  different 
outlines.  Their  colors,  too,  are  all  different.  One  pile  of  lumber 
has  been  exposed  to  the  weather  longer  than  the  other  ;  the  blue 
of  the  river  differs  from  the  blue  of  the  sky  ;  and  in  the  trees 
there  are  many  shades  of  green. 

All  these  objects  might  be  put  into  a  painting,  with  outlines 
as  sharp  and  colors  as  distinct  as  they  have  in  reality. 

Suppose,  now,  I  should  try  to  describe  this  scene  from 
the  window  in  words.  In  a  painting,  you  could  see  all 
the  objects  at  the  same  instant  with  a  single  glance  of  the 
eyes.  In  my  description,  I  should  have  to  string  the  details 
along  one  after  another,  so  that  the  last  object  mentioned 
misht  not  be  reached  until  several  minutes  after  the  first. 
Here,  then,  is  one  striking  difference  between  painting  and 
description. 

Furthermore,  my  description  would  give  you  a  very 
imperfect  idea  of  the  outlines  of  the  various  objects.  So 
long  as  the  lines  are  straight,  I  should  not  have  much 
difficulty.  But  when  I  came  to  the  irregular  curves  which 
a  natural  object  has,  I  could  find  no  words  to  describe 
them  adequately.  The  same  is  true  of  colors.  How  can 
I  express,  for  example,  the  difference  between  the  green 
of  an  oak  and  that  of  an  elm,  or  between  the  green  of  a 
pine  and  that  of  a  spruce?  How  can  I  distinguish,  the 
blue  in  the  sky  from  the  blue  on  the  river  ? 

In  some  respects,  then,  words  cannot  compare  in  effect- 
iveness with  pictures.  The  mere  outlines  in  a  Greek 
vase  painting  give  one  a  more  immediate  appreciation  of 
the  grace  and  beauty  of  the  human  form  than  pages  of 
descriptive   writing.    A    silhouette    in    black    paper  will 


PICTURES  AND  DESCRIPTIONS  99 

enable  you  to  recognize  a  stranger  more  quickly  than  the 
most  elaborate  description  in  words. 

On  the  other  hand,  words  have  quite  as  many  advan- 
tages on  their  side.  For  instance,  what  can  a  picture  tell 
you  about  wind  or  heat,  about  sound  or  smell,  about 
motion,  about  the  feeling  of  roughness  or  moisture? 
Nothing  directly;  it  can  only  suggest. 

It  may  indicate  wind  by  showing  the  water  ruffled  or 
the  white  backs  of  the  leaves  turned  up.  It  can  indicate 
heat  still  less  effectively,  as,  for  example,  by  means  of  very 
black  and  sharply  defined  shadows  on  a  white  ground,  to 
suggest  sunlight.  And  when  you  come  to  sound  or  smell 
or  the  sense  of  feeling,  a  picture  can  only  hint  at  the  facts 
in  a  roundabout  way,  —  as  by  putting  in  a  man  in  a  lis- 
tening attitude,  or  a  girl  smelling  a  rose,  or  a  boy  shivering 
with  cold  on  the  ice.  Think  how  many  pictures  you  have 
seen  which  meant  nothing  to  you  because  you  did  not 
know  the  story  beforehand.  A  picture  can  represent  only 
a  single  instant  in  the  course  of  a  story ;  it  cannot  tell 
what  went  before  or  what  happened  afterward. 

With  words,  however,  we  can  describe  all  these  things. 
If  we  cannot  make  the  reader  see  the  exact  shape'  of  an 
object,  we  can  give  him  a  much  clearer  idea  of  motion 
and  sound  and  feeling  than  he  can  get  from  the  most 
accurate  photograph  or  the  most  skilfully  painted  picture. 

Bead  the  following  description  of  "  The  Valley  of  the 
Floss"  by  George  Eliot,  and  notice  the  many  details  it 
contains  which  a  picture  could  not  portray. 

A  wide  plain,  where  the  broadening  Floss  hurries  on  between 
its  green  banks  to  the  sea,  and  the  loving  tide,  rushing  to  meet 
it,  checks  its  passage  with  an  impetuous  embrace.  On  this 
mighty  tide  the  black  ships,  laden  with  the  fresh-scented  fir- 
planks,  with  rounded  sacks  of  oil-bearing  seed,  or  with  the  dark 


100  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

glitter  of  coal,  are  borne  along  to  the  town  of  St.  Ogg's,  which 
shows  its  aged,  fluted  red  roofs  and  the  broad  gables  of  its 
wharves  between  the  low,  wooded  hill  and  the  brink,  tingeing  the 
water  with  a  soft  purple  hue  under  the  transient  glance  of  this 
February  sun. 

Far  away  on  each  hand  stretch  the  rich  pastures  and  the 
patches  of  dark  earth,  made  ready  for  the  seed  of  broad-leaved 
green  crops,  or  touched  already  with  the  tint  of  the  tender-bladed 
autumn-sown  corn.  There  is  a  remnant  still  of  the  last  year's 
golden  clusters  of  beehive  ricks  rising  at  intervals  beyond  the 
hedgerows ;  and  everywhere  the  hedgerows  are  studded  with 
trees  :  the  distant  ships  seem  to  be  lifting  their  masts  and  stretch- 
ing their  red-brown  sails  close  among  the  branches  of  the  spread- 
ing ash.  Just  by  the  red-roofed  town  the  tributary  Ripple  flows 
with  a  lively  current  into  the  Floss.  How  lovely  the  little  river 
is,  with  its  dark,  changing  wavelets  !  It  seems  to  me  like  a  liv- 
ing companion  while  I  wander  along  the  bank  and  listen  to  its 
low,  placid  voice,  as  to  the  voice  of  one  who  is  deaf  and  loving. 
I  remember  those  large,  dipping  willows.  I  remember  the  stone 
bridge.    And  this  is  Dorlcote  Mill. 

In  the  first  paragraph  we  have  the  Floss  hurrying  on, 
the  tide  rushing  to  meet  it,  the  fresh-scented  fir-planks 
borne  along,  the  transient  glance ;  in  the  second  paragraph, 
the  lively  current,  the  changing  wavelets,  the  low,  'placid 
voice  of  the  river.  If  you  should  cut  out  these  details, 
the  description  would  be  tame  and  lifeless.  Indeed,  Dana 
points  out,  after  describing  the  iceberg  (p.  91),  how  help- 
less a  painter  would  be  to  express  its  true  effect. 

ACTION  IN  DESCRIPTION 

We  have  seen  that  one  of  the  chief  advantages  which 
a  description  has  over  a  picture  consists  in  its  power  to 
express  movement  and  action. 

In  real  life  we  seldom  sit  still  as  we  note  one  detail 
of  a  scene  after  another.    We  move  about,  and  observe 


ACTION   IN  DESCRIPTION  101 

the  details  in  that  way.  This  fact  suggests  a  good  method 
of  writing  the  introduction  in  a  descriptive  essay,  and  also 
an  easy  means  of  passing  from  one  detail  or  phase  of  the 
subject  to  the  next.  Dana  in  his  description  of  an  ice- 
berg (p.  91)  tells  how  the  cook  "put  his  head  down  the 
scuttle  and  told  us  to  come  on  deck  and  see  the  finest 
sight  that  we  had  ever  seen " ;  and  toward  the  end  he 
remarks  that  the  berg  "seemed  to  be  drifting  slowly 
toward  the  north,  so  that  we  kept  away  and  avoided  it." 

So  in  observing  a  person,  we  watch  his  movements, 
and  we  may  converse  with  him  and  note  the  tone  of  his 
voice  or  the  changing  expressions  of  his  face.  George 
Eliot  describes  Dinah  Morris  (p.  118)  as  she  walks  out  to 
address  the  people;  presently  she  remarks  that  Diuah 
"  stood  with  her  left  hand  toward  the  descending  sun ;  and 
leafy  boughs  screened  her  from  its  rays  " ;  and  she  closes 
by  noting  what  some  of  the  spectators  did  as  they  watched 
the  speaker  (p.  119).  Such  little  actions  keep  the  descrip- 
tion from  being  a  mere  inventory  or  catalogue  of  Dinah's 
features. 

In  the  following  description,  from  Hawthorne's  "House 
of  the  Seven  Gables,"  Mr.  Pyncheon's  action  in  looking 
round  at  the  carpenter  and  then  nonchalantly  returning  to 
his  coffee,  gives  us  a  far  better  idea  of  his  bearing  than  we 
should  have  got  from  a  mere  statement  that  "his  demeanor 
was  calm,  and  he  had  an  air  of  serene  and  unconscious 
hauteur  " :  — 

At  a  small  table,  before  a  fire  of  English  searcoal,  sat  Mr. 
Pvncheon,  sipping  coffee,  which  had  grown  to  be  a  very  favorite 
beverage  with  him  in  France.  He  was  a  middle-aged  and  really 
handsome  man,  with  a  wig  flowing  down  upon  his  shoulders  ;  his 
coat,  was  of  blue  velvet,,  with  lace  on  the  borders  and  at  the 
buttonholes;  and  the  firelight  glistened  on  the  spacious  breadth 
of  his  waistcoat,  which  was  flowered  all  over  with  gold.    On  the 


102  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

entrance  of  Scipio,  ushering  in  the  carpenter,  Mr.  Fyncheon 
turned  partly  round,  but  resumed  his  former  position,  and  pro- 
ceeded deliberately  to  finish  his  cup  of  coffee,  without  immediate 
notice  of  the  guest  whom  he  had  summoned  to  his  presence.  It 
was  not  that  he  intended  any  rudeness  or  improper  neglect,  — 
which,  indeed,  he  would  have  blushed  to  be  guilty  of, — but  it 
never  occurred  to  him  that  a  person  in  Maule's  station  had  a 
claim  on  his  courtesy,  or  would  trouble  himself  about  it  one  way 
or  the  other. 

If  a  description,  then,  is  to  represent  real  life,  it  should 
include  touches  of  movement  and  action. 

Some  descriptions  have  so  much  action  that  they  may 
almost  be  called  stories,  and  we  have  seen  that  almost  all 
stories  need  some  description  (p.  52). 

SENSATIONS  IN  DESCRIPTION 

A  good  writer  is  not  content  to  include  in  a  description 
only  such  things  as  would  go  into  a  picture.  He  takes  care, 
as  we  have  observed,  to  introduce  objects  in  motion,  particu- 
larly living  creatures.  Besides  what  can  be  seen,  he  brings 
in  sounds,  bodily  feelings,  and  other  matters  of  sensation. 
Thus  we  get  the  full  impression  that  the  scene  or  object 
makes  upon  him. 

Observe  the  variety  of  sensations  which  Cowper  expresses 
in  the  following  extract  from  "The  Winter  Walk  at 
Noon  " :  — 

The  night  was  winter  in  his  roughest  mood, 

The  morning  sharp  and  clear.    But  now  at  noon, 

Upon  the  southern  side  of  the  slant  hills, 

And  where  the  woods  fence  off  the  northern  blast, 

The  season  smiles,  resigning  all  its  rage, 

And  has  the  warmth  of  May.    The  vault  is  blue 

Without  a  cloud,  and  white  without  a  speck 

The  dazzling  splendor  of  the  scene  below. 


SENSATIONS   IN   DESCRIPTION  103 

Again  the  harmony  comes  o'er  the  vale, 
And  through  the  trees  I  view  the  embattled  tower 
Whence  all  the  music.    I  again  perceive 
The  soothing  influence  of  the  wafted  strains. 
And  settle  in  soft  musings  as  1  tread 
The  walk,  still  verdant,  under  oaks  and  elms, 
Whose  outspread  branches  overarch  the  glade. 
The  roof,  though  movable  through  all  its  length 
.  As  the  wind  sways  it,  has  yet  well  sufficed, 
And,  intercepting  in  their  silent  fall 
The  frequent  flakes,  has  kept  a  path  for  me.' 
No  noise  is  here,  or  none  that  hinders  thought. 
The  redbreast  warbles  still,  but  is  content 
With  slender  notes,  and  more  than  half  suppressed. 
Pleased  with  his  solitude,  and  flitting  light 
From  spray  to  spray,  where'er  he  rests  he  shakes 
From  many  a  twig  the  pendent  drops  of  ice, 
That  tinkle  in  the  withered  leaves  below. 

Here  the  roughness  of  the  night  and  the  sharp, char  weather  of 
the  morning  are  contrasted  with  the  warmth  of  May,  which  the 
noon  brings  with  it  in  sheltered  spots.  The  sense  of  sound  is  also 
appealed  to :  we  hear  the  wafted  strain*  of  the  chimes  from  the 
church  tower  across  the  valley,  the  slender  notes  pi  the  robin,  and 
the  tinkle  of  the  icicles  falling  among  the  withered  leaves.  The 
mood  which  the  sights  and  sounds  induce  in  the  poet  is  also 
expressed  :  "the  soothing  influence  of  the  wafted  strains"  and 
the  "  soft  musings  "  which  fill  his  mind  as  he  walks. 

None  of  these  sensations  and  feelings  could  be  expressed 
—  though  some  of  them  might  be  suggested  —  in  a  paint- 
ing. A  picture  appeals  primarily  to  the  eye,  a  description 
may  appeal  to  the  other  senses  as  well;  and,  in  real  life, 
some  of  the  most  vivid  associations  we  have  are  called  up 
by  other  senses  than  that  of  sight.  We  can  test  this  by  a 
simple  experiment. 

Recollect  the  smell  of  the  moist  earth  in  spring,  or  of  lumber, 
or  of  seaweed,  or  the  queer  fishy  odor  of  fresh  water,  and  see 


104  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

if  it  does  not  bring  vividly  before  your  mind  some  place  where 
you  have  been  or  some  experience  that  you  have  had. 

Specific  sensations,  then,  have  the  power  of  calling  up,  in 
the  mind  of  the  reader,  scenes,  objects,  or  experiences 
with  which  they  have  been  associated  in  the  past.  The 
value  of  such  associations  in  descriptive  writing  is  well 
set  forth  by  Goldsmith  in  one  of  his  essays  :  — ■ 

We  are  more  affected  by  reading  Shakspere's  description  of 
Dover  Cliff,1  and  Otway's  picture  of  the  Old  Hag,2  than  we 
should  be  were  we  actually  placed  on  the  summit  of  the  one, 
or  met  in  reality  with  such  a  beldame  as  the  other  ;  because  in 
reading  these  descriptions  we  refer  to  our  own  experience,  and 
perceive,  with  surprise,  the  justice  of  the  imitations. 

In  the  two  following  descriptions,  notice  how  much  of 
the  vividness  and  power  comes  from  the  variety  of  the 
sensations  expressed,  and  from  the  associations  which  these 
call  up  in  the  mind. 

*  The  gray  sea  and  the  long  black  land  ; 
And  the  yellow  half-moon  large  and  low  ; 
And  the  startled  little  waves  that  leap 

In  fiery  ringlets  from  their  sleep, 

As  I  gain  the  cove  with  pushing  prow, 

And  quench  its  speed  i'  the  slushy  sand. 

Then  a  mile  of  warm  sea-scented  beach; 

Three  fields  to  cross  till  a  farm  appears  ; 

A  tap  at  the  pane,  the  quick  sharp  scratch 

And  blue  spurt  of  a  lighted  match, 

And  a  voice  less  loud,  through  its  joys  and  fears. 

Than  the  two  hearts  beating  each  to  each  !  —  Browning. 

•  The  sea  is  calm  to-night ; 

The  tide  is  full ;  the  moon  lies  fair 

Upon  the  Straits  ;  on  the  French  coast  the  light 

1  In  "  King  Lear." 

2  In  "The  Orphan."  The  passage  is  quoted  by  Addison  in  "The 
Spectator,"  No.  117. 


SENSATIONS  IX  DESCRIPTION  105 

Gleams,  and  is  gone  ;  the  cliffs  of  England  stand, 

Glimmering  and  vast,  out  in  the  tranquil  bay. 

Come  to  the  window  :  sweet  is  the  night  air  ! 

Only  from  the  long  line  of  spray 

Where  the  ebb  meets  the  moon-blanched  sand, 

Listen  !  yon  hear  the  grating  roar 

Of  pebbles  which  the  waves  suck  bade,  and  fling, 

At  their  return,  up  the  high  strand, 

Begin  and  cease,  and  then  again  begin, 

With  tremulous  cadence  slow,  and  bring 

The  eternal  note  of  sadness  in.  —  Matthew  Arnold.1 

In  the  following  descriptive  sonnet,2  Wordsworth  ex- 
presses, by  means  of  words  denoting  .sensations,  a  deep 
feeling  of  calm  and  content. 

UPON  WESTMINSTER  BRIDGE      • 

Earth  has  not  anything  to  show  more  fair  : 
Dull  would  he  be  of  soul  who  could  pass  by 
A  sight  so  touching  in  its  majesty  : 
This  city  now  doth,  like  a  garment,  wear 
The  beauty  of  the  morning  ;  silent,  bare, 
Ships,  towers,  domes,  theatres,  and  temples  lie 
Open  unto  the  fields,  and  to  the  sky. 
All  bright  and  glittering  in  the  smokeless  air. 
Never  did  sun  more  beautifully  steep 
In  his  first  splendor,  valley,  rock,  or  hill ; 
Ne'er  saw  I,  never  felt,  a  calm  so  deep  I 
The  river  glideth  at  his  own  sweet  will  : 
Dear  God  !  the  very  houses  seem  asleep  ; 
And  all  that  mighty  hearl  is  Lying  still! 

Similarly  tin-  book  of  Job  (Chapter  iv,  verses  13-17)  ex- 
presses the  feeling  of  dread  and  aw.-  by  describing  the 
bodily  sensations  which  go  with  it. 

i  From  "  Dover  Beach." 

2  For  the  structure  <>f  a  Bonnet,  Bee  pp.  185  186. 


106  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

THE  BEGINNING  OF  A  DESCBIPTION 

The  first  sentence  in  a  description  is  often  used  to 
bring  before  the  mind  the  general  picture  or  main  impression, 
and  what  follows  fills  in  the  details.  So,  for  example,  in 
Buskin's  description  of  the  South  Wind :  — 

It  was  the  most  extraordinary  looking  little  gentleman  he  had 
ever  seen  in  his  life.  He  had  a  very  large  nose,  slightly  brass- 
colored  ;  his  cheeks  were  very  round  and  very  red,  and  might 
have  warranted  a  supposition  that  he  had  been  blowing  a  refrac- 
tory fire  for  the  last  eight-and-forty  hours  ;  his  eyes  twinkled 
merrily  through  long  silky  eyelashes,  his  moustaches  cm-led  twice 
round  like  a  corkscrew  on  each  side  of  his  mouth,  and  his  hair, 
of  a  curious  mixed  pepper-and-salt  color,  descended  far  over  his 
shoulders.  He  was  about  four  feet  six  in  height,  and  wore  a 
conical  pointed  cap  of  nearly  the  same  altitude,  decorated  with  a 
black  feather  some  three  feet  long.  His  doublet  was  prolonged 
behind  into  something  resembling  a  violent  exaggeration  of  what 
is  now  termed  a  "  swallow  tail,"  but  was  much  obscured  by  the 
swelling  folds  of  an  enormous  black,  glossy-looking  cloak,  which 
must  have  been  very  much  too  long  in  calm  weather,  as  the  wind, 
whistling  round  the  old  house,  carried  it  clear  out  from  the 
wearer's  shoulders  to  about  four  times  his  own  length. 

Similarly,  the  brief  description  on  p.  9G  begins,  "  Black 
night  lay  over  the  city,  and  silence."  In  the  extract  from  "  Dover 
Beach  "  (p.  104),  "  The  sea  is  calm  to-night  "  prepares  us  for  all 
the  vivid  particulars  that  follow.  Dickens  begins  his  description 
of  Marseilles  in  August  (p.  113)  with  the  simple  sentence,  "  Thirty 
years  ago,  Marseilles  lay  in  the  burning  sun  one  day." 

In  a  longer  description,  some  introductory  matter  may 
be  necessary.  Thus,  in  the  extract  from  Dana  (p.  91),  there 
is  a  whole  paragraph  before  the  iceberg  appears,  and  this 
paragraph  is  all  to  the  purpose.  Besides  explaining  the 
circumstances,  it  enlivens  the  scene  by  means  of  action, 
and  rouses  our  curiosity  and  expectation. 


DESCRIPTION  OF  A  PLACE  107 

Formal  introductions  are  seldom  in  place  in  descriptive 
writing.  What  has  been  already  said  about  the  introduc- 
tion in  a  story  (pp.  44-46),  applies  to  description  with 
even  greater  force. 

DESCRIPTION  OF  A  PLACE 

Most  of  us  use  description  more  frequently  in  letter- 
writing  than  in  any  other  kind  of  composition.  We  often 
wisli  to  give  a  friend  at  a  distance  some  idea  of  our  own 
town  or  neighborhood  ;  and,  when  away  from  home,  we 
are  always  eager  to  let  our  families  know  what  our  new 
surroundings  are  like.  Thus  skill  in  description  is  of 
constant  utility  hi  our  everyday  life. 

The  great  Dr.  Arnold  of  Rugby  once  wrote  as  follows 
to  one  of  his  old  pupils,  who  was  living  in  Tasmania :  — 

Will  you  describe  the  general  aspect  of  the  country  round 
Hobart's  Town  ?  To  this  day  I  never  could  meet  with  a  descrip- 
tion of  the  common  face  of  the  country  about  New  York,  or 
Boston,  or  Philadelphia,  and  therefore  T  have  no  distinct  idea  of 
it.  Is  your  country  plain  or  undulating;  are  your  valleys  deep 
or  shallow,  —  curving,  or  with  steep  sides  and  flat  bottoms?  Are 
your  fields  large  or  small,  parted  by  hedges  or  stone  walls,  with 
single  trees  about  them,  or  patches  of  wood  here  and  there?  Are 
there  many  scattered  houses,  and  what  are  they  built  of, — brick, 
wood,  or  stone?  And  what  are  the  hills  and  streams  like, — 
ridges,  or  with  waving  summits?  with  plain  sides,  or  indented 
with  combes?  full  of  springs  or  dry  ?  And  what  is  their  geology? 
I  can  better  fancy  the  actors  when  I  have  got  a  lively  notion  of 
the  scene  in  which  bhey  are  acting. 

This  letter  sums  up  very  well  the  things  that  one 
would  like  to  know  about  a  place  where  a  friend  hap- 
pened to  be  living.  Moreover,  those  are  just  the  points 
thai  a  good  writer  nil  ends  to  instinctively.  George  Eliot, 
in  the  description  of  "The  Valley  of  the  Floss"  (p.  99), 


108  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

speaks  of  the  wide  plain,  of  the  rich  pastures  and  the 
patches  of  dark  earth,  of  the  hedgerows  studded  with 
trees,  and  of  the  "  town  of  St.  Ogg's,  which  shows  its  aged, 
fluted  red  roofs  and  the  broad  gables  of  its  wharves  be- 
tween the  low,  wooded  hill  and  the  brink  "  of  the  river. 


THE  POINT  OF  VIEW  IN  DESCRIPTION 

In  describing  a  scene  it  is  usually  important  —  and 
sometimes  necessary  —  to  define  or  suggest  who  is  seeing 
it,  and  where  he  is  or  what  he  is  doing  at  the  time.  In 
other  words,  we  must  attend  to  the  point  of  view. 

In  Matthew  Arnold's  description  of  the  English  Channel  by 
moonlight  (p.  104),  it  is  the  poet  himself  who  is  speaking,  and 
the  point  of  view  is  suggested  by  the  words  "  Come  to  the  win- 
dow." Wordsworth  (p.  105)  describes  London  as  he  saw  it,  early 
in  the  morning,  from  Westminster  Bridge.  Washington  Irving, 
in  "  The  Inn  Kitchen"  (p.  90),  describes  the  group  in  the  kitchen 
as  he  saw  them  from  the  door. 

In  the  following  extract  from  Charles  Kingsley's 
"  Heroes,"  the  river  Anauros  is  described  from  the  point 
of  view  of  Jason,  as  he  stands  on  the  rocks  about  to 
plunge  in :  — 

Jason  was  bold  and  hasty,  and  was  just  going  to  leap  into  the 
flood  :  and  yet  he  thought  twice  before  he  leapt,  so  loud  roared 
the  torrent  down,  all  brown  from  the  mountain  rains,  and  silver- 
veined  with  melting  snow  ;  while  underneath  he  could  hear  the 
boulders  rumbling  like  the  tramp  of  horsemen  or  the  roll  of 
wheels,  as  they  ground  along  the  narrow  channel,  and  shook  the 
rocks  on  which  he  stood. 

Irving  makes  the  Nervous  Gentleman  describe  "  The 
Mysterious  Picture " l  as  he  saw  it  from  the  chair  in 
which  he  had  been  sleeping  before  the  fire :  — 

i  In  "  Tales  of  a  Traveller  "  (New  York,  G.  P.  Putnam's  Sons). 


THE  POINT  OF  VIEW  IN  DESCRIPTION       109 

In  short,  I  had  a  violent  fit  of  the  nightmare.  Some  strange 
indefinite  evil  seemed  hanging  over  me  which  I  could  not  avert ; 
something  terrible  and  loathsome  oppressed  me  which  I  could 
not  shake  off.  I  was  conscious  of  being  asleep,  and  strove  to 
rouse  myself,  but  every  effort  redoubled  the  evil  ;  until  gasping, 
struggling,  almost  strangling,  I  suddenly  sprang  bolt  upright  in 
my  chair,  and  awoke. 

The  light  on  the  mantel -piece  had  burnt  low,  and  the  wick 
was  divided  ;  there  was  a  great  winding-sheet  made  by  the  drip- 
ping  wax  on  the  side  towards  me.  The  disordered  taper  emitted 
a  broad  flaring  flame,  and  threw  a  strong  light  on  a  painting  over 
the  fireplace  which  I  had  not  hitherto  observed.  It  consisted 
chiefly  of  a  head,  or  rather  a  face,  staring  full  upon  me,  with  an 
expression  that  was  startling.  It  was  without  a  frame,  and  at 
the  first  glance  I  could  hardly  persuade  myself  that  it  was  not  a 
real  face  thrusting  itself  out  of  the  dark  oaken  panel.  I  sat  in 
my  chair  gazing  at  it,  and  the  more  I  gazed,  the  more  it  dis- 
quieted me. 

In  all  the  examples  cited,  the  point  of  view  is  stationary. 
In  real  life,  however,  we  do  not  always  stand  or  sit  still 
as  we  note  one  detail  of  a  scene  after  another.  We  move 
about,  and  observe  the  details  in  that  way.  Hence  what 
is  called  the  moving  point  of  view  is  common  in  description. 

Dana  describes  the  drifting  iceberg  (p.  01)  as  lie  saw  it  from 
the  moving  ship.  Cowper  (p.  102)  describes  the  winter  sights 
and  sounds  as  they  impressed  him  during  a  leisurely  walk  at 
noon.  In  Browning's  night-piece  (p.  104),  the  speaker  imagines 
himself  as  rowing  rapidly  to  the  cove  and  hurrying  along  the 
beach  and  across  the  fields  to  the  farmhouse. 

In  the  following  passage  from  "The  Heroes,"  Charles 
Kingsley  describes  the  city  of  the  Phseacians  as  it  im- 
pressed the  Argonauts  when  they  entered  the  harbor  and 
approached  the  <[iiays:  — 

So  the)  row  i'il  ini  i)  the  harbor,  among  a  thousand  black-beaked 
ships,  each  larger  Ear  than  the  Argo,  toward  a  quay  of  polished 


110  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

stone.  And  they  wondered  at  that  mighty  city,  with  its  roofs  of 
burnished  brass,  and  long  and  lofty  walls  of  marble,  with  strong- 
palisades  above.  And  the  quays  were  full  of  people,  merchants, 
and  mariners,  and  slaves,  going  to  and  fro  with  merchandise 
among  the  crowd  of  ships.  And  the  heroes'  hearts  were  humbled, 
and  they  looked  at  each  other  and  said,  "  We  thought  ourselves 
a  gallant  crew  when  we  sailed  from  Iolcos  by  the  sea  ;  but  how 
small  we  look  before  this  city,  like  an  ant  before  a  hive  of  bees  !  " 

In  a  famous  passage  in  "  The  Lady  of  the  Lake  "  (Canto  II, 
xvi),  barges  are  described  as  they  are  seen  approaching  the 
island.  Here  the  point  of  view  is  stationary,  but  the  objects 
themselves  move.  In  the  following  description  of  a  north- 
easter on  Cape  Cod,1  the  point  of  view  is  that  of  two 
men  —  Captain  Eri  and  Ealph  the  electrician  —  who  are 
walking  along  a  strip  of  beach  between  a  bay  on  one  side 
and  the  open  sea  on  the  other. 

Ralph  was  only  too  glad  of  the  opportunity  to  see  the  finish  of 
a  rescuing  expedition,  and  he  said  so.  So  they  got  into  the  oil- 
skins again,  pulled  their  "  sou'westers  "  down  over  their  ears,  and 
started  on  the  tramp  to  the  life-saving  station. 

The  electrician  is  not  likely  to  forget  that  walk.  The  wind 
was,  as  the  Captain  said,  at  their  backs,  but  it  whistled  in  from 
the  sea  with  terrific  strength,  and  carried  the  sleet  with  it.  It 
deluged  them  with  water,  and  plastered  them  with  flying  seaweed 
and  ice.  The  wet  sand  came  in  showers  like  hail,  and  beat 
against  their  shoulders  until  they  felt  the  sting,  even  through 
their  clothes.  Toward  the  bay  was  nothing  but  gray  mist, 
streaked  with  rain  and  sleet ;  toward  the  sea  was  the  same  mist, 
flying  with  the  wind  over  such  a  huddle  of  tossing  green  and 
white  as  Ralph  had  never  seen.  The  surf  poured  in,  in  rollers  that 
leaped  over  each  other's  humped  backs  in  their  savage  energy  to 
get  at  the  shore,  which  trembled  as  they  beat  upon  it.  The  rip- 
ples from  one  wave  had  not  time  to  flow  back  before  those  of  the 
next  came  threshing  in.     Great  blobs  of  foam  shot  down  the 


» 


i  From  "  Cap'n  Eri,  a  Story  of  the  Coast,"  by  Joseph  C.  Lincoln  (New 
York,  A.  S.  Barnes  &  Company). 


HIE  POINT  OF  VIEW  E\    DESCRIPTION        111 

strand  like  wild  birds,  and  the  gurgle  and   splash  and  roar  were 
terrific. 

They  walked  as  near  the  water  line  as  they  dared,  because  the 
sand  was  harder  there.  Captain  Eri  went  ahead,  hands  in  his 
pockets  and  head  down.  Ralph  followed,  sometimes  watching 
his  companion,  but  oftener  gazing  at  the  sea.  At  intervals  there 
would  be  a  lull,  as  if  the  storm  giant  had  paused  for  breath,  and 
they  could  see  for  half  a  mile  over  the  crazy  water  ;  then  the 
n>\t  gust  would  pull  the  curtain  down  again,  and  a  whirl  of  rain 
and  sleet  would  shut  them  in.  Conversation  meant  only  a  series 
of  shrieks,  and  they  gave  it  up. 

The  point  of  view  is  sometimes  defined  at  the  beginning, 
sometimes  revealed  as  the  description  proceeds.  In  the 
course  of  a  long  description,  it  may  even  change  two  or 
three  times ;  but  it  should  never  change  without  notice. 
Confusion  in  this  regard  is  fatal  to  that  unity  of  impres- 
sion which  a  description  aims  to  produce. 

A  fine  example  of  orderly  change  in  the  point  of  view  is 
Hawthorne's  description  of  Bald  Summit  and  the  country  round.1 
Here  the  wood  is  described  as  it  appeared  to  Eustace  and  the 
children  while  they  walked  through  it ;  the  top  of  the  hill,  as  it 
appeared  to  the  same  party  /<>o/,ii<</  up  from  the  verge  of  the  wood  ; 
and  the  surrounding  landscape  as  it  appeared  to  them,  looking 
down  from  the  very  summit. 

••  Howe's  Masquerade,"  in  Hawthorne's  "  Twice-Told  Tales," 
gives  a  good  description  of  the  old  Province  House  at  Boston. 
The  author  imagines  himself  as  guided  through  the  building  by 
Air.  Thomas  Waite,  who  points  out  what  is  of  interest  as  they 
go  from  room  to  room. 

Stories,  as  we  know  (see  p.  50),  are  often  told  from 
what  is  called  "the  omniscient  point  of  view,"  the  author 
assuming  Hint  lie  knows  even  wind  the  actors  think  and 
feel.  A  similar  method  is  frequently  used  in  descriptions. 
Thus,  in   the  extract  on  pp.  113-114,  Dickens  does  not 

i  In  "  A  Wonder  Book." 


112  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

represent  himself  as  present  at  Marseilles,  or  as  looking 
at  the  scene ;  he  describes  it  as  one  having  full  knowledge 
of  all  the  details,  hut  you  would  find  it  impossible  to 
imagine  him  in  any  situation  from  which  he  could  see 
them  all.  Nevertheless,  the  description  is  as  vivid  as  it 
can  possibly  be.  It  is  somewhat  analogous  to  that  kind 
of  picture  which  we  call  a  "  bird's-eye  view."  This  style 
of  description  is  difficult,  and,  in  unskilled  hands,  is  likely 
to  become  confused  and  blurred.  A  young  writer  will 
always  do  well  to  define  his  point  of  view  accurately  at 
the  outset. 

TIME  IN  DESCRIPTIONS 

Closely  connected  with  the  point  of  view  in  description 
is  the  question  of  the  time.  To  make  a  description  vivid, 
you  must  often  put  it  at  a  particular  season,  on  a  definite 
day,  even  at  a  special  hour. 

Read  the  following  descriptions  with  this  question  in 
mind :  — 

Aud  so  we  began  our  journey  ;  sadly,  under  dripping  trees 
and  a  leaden  sky.  The  country  we  had  to  traverse  was  the  same 
I  had  trodden  on  the  last  day  of  my  march  southwards,  but  the 
passing  of  a  month  had  changed  the  face  of  everything.  Green 
dells,  where  springs  welling  out  of  the  chalk  had  made  of  the 
leafy  bottom  a  fairies'  home,  strewn  with  mosses,  —  these  were 
now  swamps  into  which  our  horses  sank  to  the  fetlock.  Sunny 
brows,  whence  I  had  viewed  the  champaign  and  traced  my  forward 
path,  had  become  bare,  windswept  ridges.  The  beech  woods, 
which  had  glowed  with  ruddy  light,  were  naked  now,  —  mere 
black  trunks  and  rigid  arms  pointing  to  heaven.  An  earthy  smell 
filled  the  air  :  a  hundred  paces  away  a  wall  of  mist  closed  the 
view.  We  plodded  on  sadly,  up  hill  and  down  hill  ;  now  fording 
brooks  already  stained  in  the  flood  water,  now  crossing  barren 
heaths.  —  Weyman.1 

1  From  "Under  the  Red  Robe"  (New  York,  Longmans,  Green  & 
Company). 


TIME  IN  DESCRIPTIONS  113 

AN  AUGUST  DAY  IN  MARSEILLES  * 
By  Charles  Dickens 

Thirty  years  ago,  Marseilles  lay  in  the  burning  sun  one  day. 

A  blazing  sun  upon  a  fierce  August  day  was  no  greater  rarity 
in  southern  France  then,  than  at  any  other  time,  before  or  since. 
Everything  in  Marseilles,  and  about  Marseilles,  had  stared  at  the 
fervid  sky,  and  been  stared  at  in  return,  until  a  staring  habit  had 
become  universal  there.  Strangers  were  stared  out  of  counte- 
nance by  staring  white  houses,  staring  white  walls,  staring  white 
streets,  staring  tracts  of  arid  road,  staring  hills  from  which  ver- 
dure was  burnt  away.  The  only  things  to  be  seen  not  fixedly 
staring  and  glaring  were  the  vines  drooping  under  their  load  of 
grapes.  These  did  occasionally  wink  a  little,  as  the  hot  air  barely 
moved  their  faint  leaves. 

There  was  no  wind  to  make  a  ripple  on  the  foul  water  within 
the  harbor,  or  on  the  beautiful  sea  without.  The  line  of  demar- 
cation between  the  two  colors,  black  and  blue,  showed  the  point 
which  the  pure  sea  would  not  pass  ;  but  it  lay  as  quiet  as  the 
abominable  pool,  with  which  it  never  mixed.  Boats  without 
awnings  were  too  hot  to  touch  ;  ships  blistered  at  their  moorings  ; 
the  stones  of  the  quays  had  not  cooled,  night  or  day,  for  months. 
Hindoos,  Russians,  Chinese,  Spaniards,  Portuguese,  Englishmen, 
Frenchmen,  Genoese,  Neapolitans,  Venetians,  Greeks,  Turks, 
descendants  from  all  the  builders  of  Babel,  come  to  trade  at 
Marseilles,  sought  the  shade  alike,  —  taking  refuge  in  any  hiding- 
place  from  a  sea  too  intensely  blue  to  be  looked  at,  and  a  sky  of 
purple,  set  with  one  great  naming  jewel  of  fire. 

The  universal  stare  made  the  eyes  ache.  Towards  the  distant 
line  of  Italian  coast,  indeed,  it  was  a  little  relieved  by  light 
clouds  of  mist,  slowly  rising  from  the  evaporation  of  the  sea,  but 
it  softened  nowhere  else.  Far  away  the  staring  roads,  deep  in 
dust,  stared  from  the  hillside,  stared  from  the  hollow,  stared 
from  the  interminable  plain.  Far  away  the  dusty  vines  over- 
hanging wayside  cottages,  and  the  monotonous  wayside  avenues 
of  parched  trees  without  shade,  drooped  beneath  the  stare  of 
earth  and  sky.    So  did  the  horses  with  drowsy  bells,  in  long  files 

i  From  "Little  Dorrit" 


114  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

of  carts,  creeping  slowly  towards  the  interior  ;  so  did  their  recum- 
bent drivers,  when  they  were  awake,  which  rarely  happened  ;  so 
did  the  exhausted  laborers  in  the  fields.  Everything  that  lived 
or  grew  was  oppressed  by  the  glare  ;  except  the  lizard,  passing 
swiftly  over  rough  stone  walls,  and  the  cicala,  chirping  his  dry  hot 
chirp,  like  a  rattle.  The  very  dust  was  scorched  brown,  and  some- 
thing quivered  in  the  atmosphere  as  if  the  air  itself  were  panting. 
Blinds,  shutters,  curtains,  awnings,  were  all  closed  and  drawn 
to  keep  out  the  stare.  Grant  it  but  a  chink  or  keyhole,  and  it 
shot  in  like  a  white-hot  arrow. 

Both  of  these  descriptions  are  remarkably  vivid;  and 
their  vividness,  as  we  notice,  comes  in  part  from  the 
authors'  care  in  fixing  the  time.  We  learn  not  merely  how 
the  place  looks  and  what  impressions  it  makes,  but  also 
what  its  appearance  is  and  what  these  impressions  are  at 
a  point  of  time,  which  is  carefully  defined.  The  importance 
of  fixing  the  time  in  descriptions  is  particularly  well  illus- 
trated in  the  first  passage.  Here  the  whole  place  seems  to 
change  with  the  season  and  the  weather,  and  in  conse- 
quence the  effect  that  it  produces  on  our  feelings  changes 
as  well. 

The  character  of  your  description,  then,  may  depend 
on  the  season  or  the  weather  in  which  you  depict  the 
scene.  Sunlight,  clouds,  rain,  sunrise  or  sunset,  crisp  air 
or  muggy,  Mali  wind  or  calm  —  these  are  influences  which 
affect  your  feelings  strongly  and  hence  modify  the  impres- 
sions which  you  get  of  a  place  or  a  landscape.  They 
should  not  be  neglected,  therefore,  if  you  wish  to  repro- 
duce those  feelings  in  a  description. 

Notice  the  effectiveness  of  the  cold  night  in  the  fol- 
lowing description  of  the  chapel  from  Keats's  "Eve  of 
Saint  Agnes  "  :  — 

His  prayer  he  saith,  this  patient,holy  man  ; 
Then  takes  his  lamp,  and  riseth  from  his  knees, 


DESCRIPTION   OF  PERSONS  115 

And  back  returneth,  meagre,  barefoot,  wan, 
Along  the  chapel  aisle  by  .slow  degrees  : 
The  sculptured  dead,  on  each  side,  seem  to  freeze, 
Imprisoned  in  black,  purgatorial  rails  : 
Knights,  ladies,  praying  in  dumb  orat'ries, 
He  passeth  by  ;  and  his  weak  spirit  fails 
To  think  how  they  may  ache  in  icy  hoods  and  mails. 

Note  the  effect  of  fixing  the  time  in  the  descriptions 
quoted  from  Miss  Mitford  (p.  94),  Black  (p.  96),  George 
Eliot  (p.  100),Cowper  (p.  102),  Browning  (p.  104),  Matthew 
Arnold  (p.  104),  Wordsworth  (p.  105),  Irving  (p.  109), 
and  Stevenson  (p.  130). 

DESCRIPTION  OF  PERSONS 

Nothing  is  harder  than  to  describe  the  form  and  features 
of  a  person  accurately,  so  that  he  will  be  recognized  by 
a  stranger.  This  difficulty  may  be  illustrated  by  a  familiar 
example.  Suppose  the  police  advertise  the  description  of  a 
criminal  of  whom  they  have  no  photograph.  The  chances 
are  that  several  innocent  persons  will  be  arrested  before 
the  right  man  is  caught.  For  such  a  description  can  do 
little  more  than  give  height  and  weight,  complexion,  color 
of  hair  and  eyes,  general  shape  of  nose,  and  so  on.  The 
difference  between  persons  consists  in  much  finer  points 
than  these.  Nearly  half  the  people  in  the  world  are  of 
"  medium  height,"  and  have  straight  noses  and  either  blue 
eyes  or  black.  A  poor  photograph  or  drawing,  or  even 
a  cheap  cut  in  a  daily  paper,  is  more  serviceable  than  such 
a  description. 

Yet,  on  the  other  hand,  a  written  description  can  do 
much  thai  a  picture  cannot.  A  picture,  for  example,  can 
give  little  idea  of  how  a  person  moves.  If  tells  nothing 
of  his  manners,  of  his  speech,  of  the  sound  of  his  voice, 


116  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

of  the  fashion  in  which  he  pronounces  his  words.  Yet 
our  first  impression  of  a  new  acquaintance  depends,  in 
large  part,  upon  just  such  traits  as  these.  Our  liking  for 
him  is  determined,  perhaps,  by  his  agreeable  voice  or  his 
cordial  way  of  speaking ;  often,  too,  by  the  charm  of  his 
smile  or  the  way  in  which  he  looks  at  us  while  we  are 
talking  to  him.  Here,  then,  lie  the  strength  and  the  oppor- 
tunity of  description  as  compared  with  portraiture. 

In  Eichardson's  "  Clarissa  Harlowe,"  the  following  de- 
scription is  given  to  the  heroine  to  enable  her  to  recognize 
a  ruffian  who  is  pursuing  her  :  — 

A  sun-burnt,  pock-f retten 1  sailor,  ill-looking,  raw-boned  ;  his 
stature  about  six  feet  ;  a  heavy  eye,  an  over-hanging  brow,  a 
deck-treading  stride  in  his  walk  ;  a  couteau 2  generally  by  his 
side  ;  lips  parched  from  his  gums,  as  if  by  staring  at  the  sun  in 
hot  climates  ;  a  brown  coat ;  a  colored  handkerchief  about  his 
neck  ;  an  oaken  plant3  in  his  hand  near4  as  long  as  himself,  and 
proportionably  thick. 

If  we  were  to  meet  such  a  man,  we  should  recognize 
him  in  an  instant.  Yet  notice  how  little  the  description 
goes  into  details  with  respect  to  his  separate  features. 
First  the  author  gives  us  a  striking  impression  of  the 
sailor's  general  appearance ;  then  he  mentions  his  height ; 
then  two  peculiarities  of  his  face,  and  his  manner  of  walk- 
ing ;  then  the  knife  that  hangs  by  his  side  ;  next,  a  strange 
expression  of  his  lips ;  and  finally  his  clothing  and  the 
great  stick  that  he  always  carries.  All  these  details  fit 
together  easily  and  naturally  into  one  complete  impression. 
If  there  were  many  more  of  them,  we  could  hardly  grasp 
the  description  as  a  whole.  The  effect  would  be  scattering 
and  confused. 

1  That  is,  pock-marked.  8  That  is,  a  stick  or  staff. 

2  That  is,  a  knife.  4  Old  style  for  nearly. 


DESCRIPTION   OF   PERSONS  117 

The  description  of  a  person,  then,  must   aot   include  too 
manv  details.    It  should  not  attempt  to  be  exhaustive. 
Moreover,  such  a  description  should  not  try  to  portray 

every  feature  minutely.  It  may  begin  by  giving  the  gen 
eral  impression  which  the  person  would  produce  at  first 
sight.  It  may  then  reinforce  this  general  impression  by 
mentioning  significant  details,  —  as  size,  coloring,  walk, 
tricks  of  manner,  strongly  marked  features,  and  the  like. 
In  any  case,  the  description  should  be  compact,  and  ex- 
pressed in  vivid  words. 

Compare  Macaulay's  description  of  Samuel  Johnson : — 

As  we  close  it  [i.e.  Boswell's  "  Life  of  Johnson  "],  the  club- 
room  is  before  us,  and  the  table  on  which  stands  the  omelet  for 
Nugent,  and  the  lemons  for  Johnson.  There  are  assembled  those 
heads  which  live  forever  on  the  canvas  of  Reynolds.  There  are 
the  spectacles  of  Pnirke  and  the  tall,  thin  form  of  Langton ;  the 
courtly  sneer  of  Beauclerk  and  the  beaming  smile  of  Garrick  ; 
Gibbon  tupping  his  snuff-box,  and  Sir  Joshua  with  his  trumpet 
in  his  ear.  In  the  foreground  is  that  strange  figure  which  is  as 
familiar  to  us  as  the  figures  of  those  among  whom  we  have  been 
brought  up  —  the  gigantic  body,  the  huge  massy  face,  seamed 
with  the  scars  of  disease  ;  the  brown  coat,  the  black  worsted 
stockings,  the  gray  wig  with  the  scorched  foretop;  the  dirty  hinds, 
the  nails  bitten  and  pared  to  the  quick.  We  see  the  eyes  and 
mouth  moving  with  convulsive  twitches  :  we  see  the  heavy  form 
rolling;  we  hear  it  puffing  ;  and  then  conies  the  "  Why,  sir  !  " 
and  the  "  What  then,  sir?  "  and  the  ••  N"o,  sir!  "  and  the  "  You 
don't  see  your  way  through  the  question,  sir  !  " 

Here  Macaulay's  vivid  imagination,  assisted  by  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds's  paintings,  reconstructs  from  Boswell's 
gossipy  and  rambling  account  Hie  scene  at  the  famous 
Club,  dominated  as  it  was  by  Johnson's  vigorous  person- 
ality. Willi  a  sun-  instinct  for  effective  detail  he  selects 
from  Boswell  just  those  few  touches  which  bring  John- 
son before  us  "in  his  habit  as  he  lived.'' 


118  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

CHARACTER  IN  DESCRIPTION 

Most  descriptions  of  persons  aim  to  convey  some  idea 
of  character.  Thus  the  sailor  in  "  Clarissa  Harlowe  "  (see 
p.  116)  was  "  ill-looking,"  and  had  a  "  heavy  eye."  We 
feel  no  doubt  that  he  was  a  bad  fellow. 

George  Eliot,  in  all  her  descriptions  of  Silas  Marner, 
emphasizes  his  helplessness  and  his  batlike  ignorance  of 
the  world  about  him,  —  qualities  which  make  him  a  very 
pathetic  figure.  Read  her  description  of  Dinah  Morris, 
from  "Adam  Bede,"  with  this  question  of  character  in 
mind :  — 

*  Dinah  walked  as  simply  as  if  she  were  going  to  market,  and 

seemed  as  unconscious  of  her  outward  appearance  as  a  little  boy  ; 
there  was  no  blush,  no  tremulousness,  which  said,  "  I  know  you 
think  me  a  pretty  woman,  too  young  to  preach  "  ;  no  casting  up 
or  down  of  the  eyelids,  no  compression  of  the  lips,  no  attitude  of 
the  arms,  that  said,  "But  you  must  think  of  me  as  a  saint." 
She  held  no  book  in  her  ungloved  hands,  but  let  them  hang  down 
lightly  crossed  before  her,  as  she  stood  and  turned  her  gray  eyes 
on  the  people.  There  was  no  keenness  in  the  eyes  ;  they  seemed 
rather  to  be  shedding  love  than  making  observations  ;  they  had 
the  liquid  look  that  tells  that  the  mind  is  full  of  what  it  has  to 
give  out,  rather  than  impressed  by  external  objects.  She  stood 
with  her  left  hand  towards  the  descending  sun  ;  and  leafy  boughs 
screened  her  from  its  rays  ;  but  in  this  sober  light  the  delicate 
coloring  of  her  face  seemed  to  gather  a  calm  vividness,  like 
flowers  at  evening. 

It  was  a  small  oval  face,  of  a  uniform  transparent  whiteness, 
with  an  e^or-like  line  of  cheek  and  chin,  a  full  but  firm  mouth,  a 
delicate  nostril,  and  a  low  perpendicular  brow,  surmounted  by  a 
rising  arch  of  parting,  between  smooth  locks  of  pale  reddish  hair. 
The  hair  was  drawn  straight  back  behind  the  ears,  and  covered, 
except  for  an  inch  or  two  above  the  brow,  by  a  net  Quaker  cap. 
The  eyebrows,  of  the  same  color  as  the  hair,  were  perfectly  hori- 
zontal and  firmly  pencilled  ;  the  eyelashes,  though  no  darker,  were 
long  and  abundant ;  nothing  was  left  blurred  or  unfinished.    It 


CHARACTER    IX   DESCRIPTION  119 

was  one  of  those  faces  that  make  one  think  of  white  flowers  with 
Light  touches  of  color  on  their  pure  petals.  The  eyes  had  no 
peculiar  beauty  beyond  that  of  expression  :  they  looked  so  simple, 
so  candid,  so  gravely  loving,  that  no  accusing  scowl,  no  light 
sneer,  could  help  melting  away  before  their  glance. 

Joshua  Rann  gave  a  long  cough,  as  if  he  were  clearing  his 
Throat  in  order  to  come  to  a  new  understanding  with  himself; 
Chad  Cranage  lifted  up  his  leather  skull-cap  and  scratched  his 
head  ;  and  Wiry  Ben  wondered  how  Seth  had  the  pluck  to  think 
of  courting  her. 

Here  the  last  lines  in  the  second  paragraph,  which 
interpret  Dinah's  character,  go  a  long  way  to  fix  our 
impression  of  her.  To  clinch  the  impression  of  Dinah's 
purity  and  elevation  of  character,  George  Eliot  adds  a 
sentence  to  show  the  effect  which  Dinah's  appearance 
produced  on  the  men  who  saw  her.  So  Dickens  ends  his 
description  of  Mr.  Jingle,  in  the  "Pickwick  Papers,"  with. 
the  sentence :  — 

His  face  was  thin  and  haggard  ;  but  an  indescribable^air 
of  jaunty  impudence  and  perfect  self-possession  pervaded  the 
whole  man. 

And  in  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities"  he  describes  the  Marquis 
d'Evremonde  as  follows:  — 

He  was  a  man  of  about  sixty,  handsomely  dressed,  haughty 
in  manner,  and  with  a  lace  like  a  fine  mask, — a  face  of  a  trans- 
parent  paleness;  every  feature  in  it  clearly  defined;  one  set 
expression  on  it.  The  nose,  beautifully  formed  otherwise,  was 
very  slightly  pinched  at  the  top  of  each  nostril.  In  these  two 
compressions,  or  dints,  the  only  little  change  that  the  face  ever 
showed  resided.  They  persisted  in  changing  color  sometimes, 
and  they  would  be  occasionally  dilated  and  contracted  by  some- 
thing like  a  faint  pulsation;  then  they  gave  a,  look  of  treachery 
and  cruelty  to  the  whole  countenance.  Examined  with  attention, 
its  capacity  of  helping  such  a  look  was  to  be  found  in  the  line  of 
the  mouth,  and  the  lines  of  the  orbits  of  the  eyes,  being  much 


120  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

too  horizontal  and  thin  ;  still,  in  the  effect  the  face  made,  it  was 
a  handsome  face,  and  a  remarkable  one. 

De  Quincey,  after  giving  a  detailed  description  of  Mrs. 
Wordsworth,  concludes  with  a  single  long  sentence  which 
shows  how  her  appearance  indicated  her  character :  — 

Indeed  all  faults,  had  they  been  ten  times  more  and  greater, 
would  have  been  neutralized  by  that  supreme  expression  of  her 
features  to  the  unity  of  which  every  lineament  in  the  fixed  parts, 
and  every  undulation  in  the  moving  parts,  of  her  countenance 
concurred,  viz.,  a  sunny  benignity  —  a  radiant  graciousness  — 
such  as  in  this  world  I  never  saw  surpassed. 

In  fact,  many  of  the  commonest  words  and  phrases 
of  description  imply  or  suggest  character:  as,  —  hard- 
featured,  melancholy  air,  stolid-looking,  firm  chin,  smiling 
eyes.  Such  words  may  make  a  description  far  more 
effective  than  a  picture ;  for  they .  give  the  reader  a 
deeper  understanding  of  the  person  described. 

Note  little  traits-,  ili'-ii,  —  a  look,  a  movement^  an  expres- 
sion,—  which  betray  character  and  make  that  individual 
person  different  from  every  one  else. 

COMPARISON  IN"  DESCRIPTION 1 

In  describing  a  place  you  can  often  help  your  reader  by 
giving  him  a  general  idea  of  the  "  lay  of  the  land."  Do 
not  go  into  overmuch  detail,  however.  Words  will  not 
take  the  place  of  a  map. 

Comparison  with  some  well-known  object  will  often  be 
of  assistance.  Thus,  a  town  lying  in  the  bend  of  a  river 
may  be  compared  to  a  horseshoe,  and  different  parts  of 
the  place  may  be  located  by  referring  them  to  the  toe  of 

1  Figures  of  speech  which  express  or  involve  comparison  are  treated 
together  in  Part  II.  <  Jhapter  in.  They  may  be  profitably  studied  in  connec- 
tion with  this  subject. 


COMPARISON    IX    DESCRIPTION  121 

the  horseshoe,  or  the  left  heel,  or  the  right  heel,  and  so  on. 
You  will  recall  a  number  of  similar  comparisons  that  you 
have  made  in  studying  geography.  Italy  is  often  compared 
to  a  boot ;  Cape  Cod  to  an  arm  Lent  at  the  elbow  (hence 
it  is  sometimes  called  "  the  right  arm  of  Massachusetts  " )  ; 
the  great  southern  peninsula  of  Greece  to  a  mulberry  leaf. 
Any  map  will  suggest  similar  comparisons  for  other  places. 
Note  also  such  geographical  names  as  Baldknob,  Castle 
Bock,  Mitre  Mountain,  Sugar  Loaf  Peak,  Golden  Gate, 
Balcony  Falls,  Serpent's  Mouth. 

Stevenson's  description  of  Monterey  begins  with  this 
simple  and  graphic  figure  :  — 

The  Bay  of  Monterey  has  been  compared  ...  to  a  bent  fishing- 
hook.  Santa  Cruz  sits  exposed  at  the  shank,  the  mouth  of  the 
Salinas  river  is  at  the  middle  of  the  bend,  and  Monterey  itself  is 
cosily  ensconced  beside  the  barb.  Thus  the  ancient  capital  of  Cali- 
fornia faces  across  the  bay,  while  the  Pacific  Ocean,  though  hidden 
by  low  hills  and  forest,  bombards  her  left  flank  and  rear  with  never- 
dying  surf.  In  front  of  the  town,  the  long  line  of  sea-beach  trends 
north  and  northwest,  and  then  westward  to  enclose  the  bay. 

living's  description  of  an  old  chateau  brings  in  a  gro- 
tesque and  striking  comparison:  — 

He  perceived  the  turrets  of  an  ancient  chateau  rising  out  of 
the  trees  of  its  walled  park;  each  turret  with  its  high  conical 
roof  of  gray  slate,  like  a  candle  with  an  extinguisher  on  it. 

Such  comparisons  are  useful,  however,  only  when  they 
are  striking,  and  when  the  figure  used  is  so  simple  that 
it  is  easily  seen  in  the  mind's  eye.  Few  people  can 
reconstruct  an  elaborate  diagram  mentally,  lie  careful, 
therefore,  not  to  be  led  away  by  your  own  ingenuity  into 
an  over-detailed  working-out  of  the  comparison :  that  will 
only  defeat  your  purpose  of  putting  the  scene  graphically 
before  the  reader. 


122  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Comparison  is  also  useful  in  describing  persons.  Bage- 
hot's  brief  portrait  of  Sterne  closes  with  a  very  graphic 
comparison :  — 

His  appearance  was  curious,  but  yet  refined.  Eager  eyes,  a 
wild  look,  a  long  lean  frame,  and  what  he  called  a  cadaverous 
bale  of  goods  for  a  body,  made  up  an  odd  exterior,  which  attracted 
notice,  and  did  not  repel  liking.  He  looked  like  a  scarecrow  with 
bright  eyes. 

Lamb  describes  an  old  bookworm  thus  :  — 

With  long  poring  he  is  grown  almost  into  a  book.  He  stood 
as  passive  as  one  by  the  side  of  the  old  shelves.  I  longed  to  new- 
coat  him  in  Russia,  and  assign  him  his  place.  He  might  have 
mustered  for  a  tall  Scapula. 

CONTRAST  IN  DESCRIPTION 

The  familiar  principle  of  contrast  applies  to  description 
as  it  does  to  other  things.  One  quality  or  feature  or  trait 
of  character  of  course  stands  out  more  if  it  is  set  over  against 
another  which  is  strikingly  different  from  it.  Notice  the 
vivid  effect  of  the  contrast  in  the  following  little  descrip- 
tion in  which  Stevenson  sums  up  the  differences  between 
Scotland  and  England  :  — 

We  have  spoken  of  the  material  conditions,  nor  need  much 
more  be  said  of  these  ;  of  the  land  lying  everywhere  more  exposed, 
of  the  wind  always  louder  and  bleaker,  of  the  black  roaring  win- 
ters, of  the  gloom  of  high-lying,  old  stone  cities  imminent  on  the 
windy  seaboard  ;  compared  with  the  level  streets,  the  warm  col- 
oring of  the  brick,  the  domestic  quaintness  of  the  architecture, 
among  which  English  children  begin  to  grow  up  and  come  to 
themselves  in  life. 

The  same  method  of  contrast  is  well  illustrated  by  a 
passage  in  De  Quincey's  "  Confessions  of  an  English 
Opium-Eater  " :  — 


CONTRAST  IN   DESCRIPTION  123 

In  a  cottage  kitchen,  but  panelled  on  the  wall  with  dark  wood 
that  from  age  and  rubbing  resembled  oak,  and  looking  more  like 
a  rustic  hall  of  entrance  than  a  kitchen,  stood  the  Malay  —  his 
turban  and  loose  trousers  of  dingy  white  relieved  upon  the  dark 
panelling.  He  had  placed  himself  nearer  to  the  girl  than  she 
seemed  to  relish  ;  though  her  native  spirit  of  mountain  intrepid- 
ity contended  with  the  feeling  of  simple  awe  which  her  counte- 
nance expressed  as  she  gazed  upon  the  tiger-cat  before  her.  And 
a  more  striking  picture  there  could  not  be  imagined  than  the 
beautiful  English  face  of  the  girl,  and  its  exquisite  fairness, 
together  with  her  erect  and  independent  attitude,  contrasted  with 
the  sallow  and  bilious  skin  of  the  Malay,  enamelled  or  veneered 
with  mahogany  by  marine  air,  his  small,  fierce,  restless  eyes, 
thin  lips,  slavish  gestures  and  adorations.  Half  hidden  by  the 
ferocious- looking  Malay  was  a  little  child  from  a  neighboring- 
cottage  who  had  crept  in  after  him,  and  was  now  in  the  act  of 
reverting  its  head,  and  gazing  upwards  at  the  turban  and  the 
fiery  eyes  beneath  it,  whilst  with  one  hand  he  caught  at  the 
dress  of  the  young  woman  for  protection. 

Compare  Irving's  description  of  the  French  Marquis 1 :  — 

In  truth,  he  was  but  a  small  descendant  from  such  great 
warriors.  When  you  looked  at  their  bluff  visages  and  brawny 
limbs,  as  depicted  in  their  portraits,  and  then  at  the  little  Mar- 
quis with  his  spindle  shanks,  and  his  sallow  lantern  visage, 
flanked  with  a  pair  of  powdered  ear-locks,  or  ailex  de  /n'genn,2  that 
seemed  ready  to  fly  away  with  it,  you  could  hardly  believe  him 
to  be  of  the  same  race.  But  when  you  looked  at  the  eyes  that 
sparkled  out  like  a  beetle's  from  each  side  of  his  hooked  nose, 
you  saw  at  once  that  he  inherited  all  the  fiery  spirit  of  his  fore- 
fathers. In  fact,  a  Frenchman's  spirit  never  exhales,  however 
his  body  may  dwindle.  It  rather  rarefies,  and  grows  more  inflam- 
mable, as  the  earthy  particles  diminish;  and  I  have  seen  valor 
enough  in  a  little  fiery-hearted  French  dwarf  to  have  furnished 
out  a,  tolerable  giant. 

1  From  "The  Adventure  of  my  Uncle"  in  " Tales  of  a  Traveller." 

2  That  is,  pigeon  wings. 


124  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

A  DESCRIPTION  IS  NOT  AN  INVENTORY 

In  description,  as  in  narration,  the  details  need  to  be 
properly  selected  and  well  combined.  A  mere  list  of  dis- 
connected facts  cannot  properly  be  called  a  description. 

Turn  to  Dickens's  description  of  "The  Old  Boat" 
(p.  93).  Make  a  list  of  the  several  details  there  men- 
tioned. Read  the  list  aloud.  It  is  merely  confusing ;  it 
gives  no  picture  of  the  boat  and  its  contents.  Now  read 
the  description  itself.  Here  are  the  same  details  that  you 
included  hi  your  list.  Yet  they  make  a  perfect  picture  of 
the  cosy  interior  of  the  old  vessel. 

One  reason  for  the  difference  is  that  in  the  description 
the  separate  facts  and  ideas  are  so  grouped  that  they 
give  you  a  number  of  clear  impressions,  and  these  are 
not  too  numerous  for  the  mind  to  retain.  Further,  there 
is  variety  in  expression.  Your  list  was,  of  course,  utterly 
monotonous ;  in  "  The  Old  Boat,"  on  the  contrary,  the 
sentences  are  skilfully  varied. 

The  importance  of  variety  is  further  illustrated  by 
George  Eliot's  description  of  Dinah  Morris  (pp.  118-119). 
This  contains  many  separate  details ;  yet  they  are  so  well 
grouped,  and  are  expressed  in  a  style  so  agreeably  varied, 
that  our  interest  never  flags.  When  we  have  read  the 
passage,  we  find  that  we  have  a  vivid  and  consistent  idea 
of  Dinah's  appearance  and  character,  in  which  all  the 
details  are  wrought  into  a  single  impression. 

It  is  this  skill  in  grouping  and  in  blending  details  that 
distinguishes  a  description  from  a  mere  inventory. 

In  the  two  following  descriptions  notice  how  many 
details  there  are,  and  how  skilfully  they  are  blended  into 
single  impressions. 


A  DESCRIPTION  IS  NOT  AN  INVENTORY    125 

People  this  street,  so  ornamented  [that  is,  with  innumerable 
signs]  with  crowds  of  swinging  chairmen,  with  servants  bawling 
to  clear  the  way,  with  Mr.  Dean  in  his  cassock,  his  lacquey  march- 
in-  before  him  ;  or  .Mrs.  Dinah  in  her  sack,  tripping  to  chapel, 
her  foot-boy  carrying  her  ladyship's  great  prayer-book  ;  with 
itinerant  tradesmen,  singing  their  hundred  cries  (I  remember 
forty  years  ago,  as  boy  in  London  city,  a  score  of  cheery,  familiar 
cries  that  are  silent  now).  Fancy  the  beaux  thronging  to  the 
chocolate-houses,  tapping  their  snuff-boxes  as  they  issue  thence, 
their  periwigs  appearing  over  the  red  curtains.  Fancy  Sacharissa, 
beckoning  and  smiling  from  the  upper  windows,  and  a  crowd  of 
soldiers  brawling  and  bustling  at  the  door  —  gentlemen  of  the 
Life  Guards,  clad  in  scarlet,  with  blue  facings,  and  laced  with 
gold  at  the  seams  ;  gentlemen  of  the  Horse  Grenadiers,  in  their 
caps  of  sky-blue  cloth,  with  the  garter  embroidered  on  the  front 
in  gold  and  silver  ;  men  of  the  Halberdiers,  in  their  long  red 
coats,  as  bluff  Harry  left  them,  with  their  ruffs  and  velvet 
caps.  — Thackeray. 

The  lofty  houses  ;  the  stately,  though  narrow  and  gloomy, 
streets,  the  splendid  display  of  the  richest  goods  and  most  gor- 
geous armor  in  the  warehouses  and  shops  around  ;  the  walks 
crowded  by  busy  citizens  of  every  description,  passing  and  repass- 
ing with  faces  of  careful  importance  or  eager  bustle  ;  the  huge 
wains,  which  transported  to  and  fro  the  subject  of  export  and 
import,  the  former  consisting  of  broadcloths  and  serge,  arms  of 
all  kinds,  nails  and  iron-work,  while  the  latter  comprehended 
every  article  of  use  or  luxury  intended  either  for  the  consumption 
of  an  opulent  city  or  received  in  barter  and  destined  fco  be  trans- 
ported elsewhere  —  all  these  objects  combined  to  form  an  engross- 
ing picture  of  wealth,  hustle,  and  splendor,  to  which  Quentin  had 
been  hitherto  a  stranger.  —Scott. 

In  the  first  passage  there  are  several  sentences,  all  of 
them  tilled  with  action.  The  whole  makes  a  Lively  picture 
of  a  bustling  London  street  in  the  time  of  George  I. 

In  the  second  passage  an  enumeration  of  different  objects 
is  so  managed,  in  the  compass  of  one  long  sentence,  as  to 
convey  a  vivid  impression  of  prosperous  c cnercial  activity. 


126  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Here  again,  as  in  the  case  of  Dickens's  "  Old  Boat " 
(p.  92)  and  of  George  Eliot's  "Dinah  Morris"  (p.  118), 
if  the  sentences  were  broken  up,  and  the  separate  facts 
and  details  were  printed  as  a  list,  the  effect  would  be 
merely  one  of  monotony  and  dull  confusion.  Mere  enu- 
meration is  not  description.  You  must  select  your  details 
and  combine  them  skilfully  if  you  wish  to  give  your 
reader  a  vivid  and  consistent  idea  of  the  scene  or  the 
person  that  you  are  describing. 

THE  CENTRAL  POINT  IN  A  DESCRIPTION 

A  description  should  lay  emphasis  on  some  one  object  or  on  a 
single  impression,  just  as  a  picture  centres  in  a  definite 
point.  In  other  words,  a  description,  like  a  picture  or  any 
other  work  of  art,  must  be  composed. 

If  you  are  describing  a  place,  your  attention  may  centre 
on  some  particular  feature  of  the  landscape,  —  as,  a  certain 
house,  or  a  great  hill,  or  a  river.  Again,  you  may  fix  your 
mind  mainly  on  the  general  effect  of  freshness  and  young 
green  in  the  spring,  or  of  warm  luxuriance  in  summer. 
Or  perhaps  you  will  let  the  place  serve  merely  as  a  back- 
ground for  the  people  who  live  in  it.  In  this  case,  you 
will  consider  the  place  chiefly  as  it  affects  the  inhabitants, 
their  tastes,  feelings,  and  manner  of  life. 

Similarly,  in  describing  a  person,  you  should  make  some 
characteristic  stand  out  vividly,  just  as  in  real  life  our 
impressions  would  focus  on  some  particular  trait  or  indi- 
vidual expression. 

In  each  instance,  the  required  emphasis  will  be  pro- 
duced by  the  selection  of  a  different  set  of  details.  It 
is  impossible  to  note  every  detail  of  any  scene.  You 
must  omit  the.  larger  part  of  them.    Selection,  then,  is 


THE  CENTRAL  POINT  IN   A  DESCRIPTION    127 

unavoidable.  In  making  the  selection,  keep  in  mind  the 
definite  point  or  effect  which  the  description  is  to  produce. 
Thus  the  following  description  of  a  "fierce  mountain 
pony,"  by  De  Quincey,  centres  in  the  animal's  fiendish 
temper.  Every  detail  is  selected  and  arranged  with  refer- 
ence to  this  central  point. 

Generally  it  was  a  fierce  mountain  pony  that  he  rode  ;  and  it 
was  worth  while  to  cultivate  the  pony's  acquaintance,  for  the 
sake  of  understanding  the  extent  to  which  the  fiend  can  some- 
times incarnate  himself  in  a  horse.  I  do  not  trouble  the  reader 
with  any  account  of  his  tricks,  and  drolleries,  and  scoundrelising  ; 
but  this  I  may  mention,  that  he  had  the  propensity  ascribed 
many  centuries  ago  to  the  Scandinavian  horses  for  sharing  and 
practically  asserting  his  share  in  the  angry  passions  of  a  battle. 
He  would  fight,  or  attempt  to  fight,  on  his  rider's  side,  by  biting, 
rearing,  and  suddenly  wheeling  about  for  the  purpose  of  lashing- 
out  when  he  found  himself  within  kicking  range.  This  little 
monster  was  coal-black  ;  and  in  virtue  of  his  carcass,  would  not 
have  seemed  very  formidable;  but  his  head  made  amends  —  it 
was  the  head  of  a  buffalo,  or  of  a  bison,  and  his  vast  jungle  of 
mane  was  the  mane  of  a  lion.  His  eyes,  by  reason  of  this  intol- 
erable and  unshorn  mane,  one  did  not  often  see,  except  as  lights 
that  sparkled  in  the  rear  of  a  thicket ;  but,  once  seen,  they  were 
not  easily  forgotten,  for  their  malignity  was  diabolic. 

Cowper,  in  a  charming  little  description  of  his  kitten, 
in  a  letter  to  Lady  Hesketh,  makes  a  special  point  of  its 
playfulness :  — 

I  have  a  kitten,  my  dear,  the  drollest  of  all  creatures  that  ever 
wore  a  cat's  skin.  Her  gambols  are  nol  in  be  described,  and 
would  be  incredible,  if  they  could.  In  point  of  size  she  is  likely 
to  be  a  kitten  always,  being  extremely  small  of  her  age;  but  time, 
I  suppose,  that  spoils  everything,  will  make  her  also  a  cat.  You 
will  see  her,  T  hope,  before  that  melancholy  period  shall  arrive,  for 
qo  wisdom  that  she  may  gain  byexperience  and  reflection  hereafter, 
will  compensate  Hm-  Loss  of  her  present  hilarity.  She  is  dressed 
in  a  tortoise-shell  suit,  and  I  know  that  you  will  delight  in  her. 


128  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Similarly,  Dana  emphasizes  the  flashing  life  and  bril- 
liancy of  the  iceberg  (p.  91);  Irving,  the  homely  com- 
fort of  the  inn  kitchen  (p.  90) ;  Dickens,  the  cosiness  of 
the  Old  Boat  (p.  93);  George  Eliot,  the  unworldly  loveli- 
ness of  Dinah  Morris  (p.  118).  In  "Quentin  Durward" 
(Chapter  v),  Lesly's  peculiar  sear  is  emphasized;  and  in 
the  description  of  De  la  Marck  (Chapter  xxn)  the  central 
effect  is  his  strange  resemblance  to  a  wild  boar. 

It  is  because  of  this  skilful  emphasis  on  a  single  effect 
that  all  these  descriptions  leave  so  clear  and  strong  an 
impression. 

A  description,  then,  should  have  a  distinct  effect  in 
view,  just  as  a  short  story  should  lead  up  to  a  single 
point  (see  p.  37).  Its  excellence  will  depend  largely  on 
the  skill  with  which  the  details  are  selected  and  marshalled 
in  composition.  A  good  description  should  make  as  clear 
and  sharply  defined  an  impression  as  a  good  picture. 

The  result  of  failing  to  select  significant  details  and  of 
neglecting  point  of  view  and  unity  of  effect,  is  amusingly 
exhibited  in  the  following  paragraph,  written  by  Goldsmith 
in  ridicule  of  these  faults  :  — 

Islington  is  a  pretty,  neat  town,  mostly  built  of  brick,  with  a 
church  and  bells.  It  has  a  small  lake,  or  rather  pond,  in  the 
midst,  though  at  present  very  much  neglected.  I  am  told  it  is 
dry  in  summer.  If  this  lie  the  case  it  can  be  no  very  proper 
receptacle  for  fish;  of  which  the  inhabitants  themselves  seem 
sensible  by  bringing  all  that  is  eaten  there  from  London. 

Finally,  whatever  you  select  as  the  point  or  chief  effect 
of  your  description  must  be  your  own  choice,  springing 
out  of  your  own  interests  and  experience.  Every  good 
description  shows  us  not  the  scene  merely,  but  the  scene 
as  it  impresses  the  writer.  If  you  visit  a  new  place  with 
your  father,  you  cannot  look  at  it  with  his  eyes.    His 


VOCABULARY    IX   DESCRIPTION  129' 

knowledge  of  men  and  affairs  will  make  him  see  a  thou- 
sand  things  that  escape  your  notice,  —  signs  of  a  peculiar 
industry,  for  example,  or  the  traits  of  an  old-established 
population,  or  the  rawness  of  a  new  settlement.  On  the 
other  hand,  he  will  neglect  many  things  that  strike  your 
eye  at  once,  —  the  looks  and  dress  of  the  young  men  ami 
women,  picturesque  shops,  and  the  liveliness  or  quiet  of  the 
streets.  Though  you  walk  through  the  city  side  by  side, 
you  will  each  write  home  a  different  description  of  it. 

It  is  a  useful  exercise  to  practice  oral  description,1  —  to 
describe,  for  instance,  what  you  can  see  from  a  certain 
window  or  from  the  top  of  a  hill.  In  preparing  for  such 
a  recitation,  you  might  jot  down  the  main  objects,  and 
then  settle  upon  the  order  in  which  they  are  to  be  men- 
tioned, bearing  in  mind  that  they  are  to  be  so  grouped  as 
to  give  your  audience  a  clear  and  unified  impression. 
Practice  of  this  kind  is  good  training  in  observation,  and 
will  assist  you  both  in  your  study  of  literature  and  in 
your  own  compositions.  It  may  easily  be  extended  to 
imaginary  scenes  or  to  those  which  you  meet  with  in 
\onr  reading.  Thus  you  might  ask  yourself,  "What  did 
Webster  see  when  he  began  his  Bunker  Hill  oration  ? * 
Tin'-  materials  for  an  answer  are  furnished  by  the  oration 
itself. 

VOCABULAEY  IN  DESCRIPTION 

The  strength  and  vividness  (if  a  description  come,  as  we 
have  already  learned,  from  the  power  which  language  has 
to  represent  sensations  of  all  kinds  and  to  call  up  the 
associations  which  go  with  them.2  To  avail  one's  self  of 
this  power  to  the  full  requires,  of  course,  a  large  vocabulary 

1  Compare  Hi"  suggestions  for  oral  narration  (p.  78). 
e  pp.  L02 


130  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

and  great  skill  in  using  it.  The  many  specimens  of  de- 
scription which  we  have  studied  in  the  preceding  pages 
illustrate  the  range  and  variety  of  words  and  phrases  needed 
in  this  kind  of  composition.  Two  more  examples  will 
now  be  given  to  emphasize  this  point. 

The  first  example  is  the  description  of  the  coral  island, 
from  Stevenson's  «  Ebb  Tide  "  * :  — 

About  four  in  the  morning,  as  the  captain  and  Herrick  sat 
together  on  the  rail,  there  arose  from  the  midst  of  the  night,  in 
front  of  them,  the  voice  of  breakers.  Each  sprang  to  his  feet 
and  stared  and  listened.  The  sound  was  continuous,  like  the 
passing  of  a  train  ;  no  rise  or  fall  could  be  distinguished  ;  minute 
by  minute  the  ocean  heaved  with  an  equal  potency  against  the  in- 
visible isle  ;  and  as  time  passed,  and  Herrick  waited  in  vain  for  any 
vicissitude  in  the  volume  of  that  roaring,  a  sense  of  the  eternal 
weighed  upon  his  mind.  To  the  expert  eye,  the  isle  itself  was  to 
be  inferred  from  a  certain  string  of  blots  along  the  starry  heaven. 
And  the  schooner  was  laid  to  and  anxiously  observed  till  daylight. 

There  was  little  or  no  morning  bank.  A  brightening  came  in 
the  east ;  then  a  wash  of  some  ineffable,  faint,  nameless  hue 
between  crimson  and  silver  ;  and  then  coals  of  fire.  These  glim- 
mered awhile  on  the  sea-line,  and  seemed  to  brighten  and  darken 
and  spread  out ;  and  still  the  night  and  the  stars  reigned  undis- 
turbed. It  was  as  though  a  spark  should  catch  and  glow  and 
creep  along  the  foot  of  some  heavy  and  almost  incombustible 
wall-hanging,  and  the  room  itself  be  scarce  menaced.  Yet  a 
little  after,  and  the  whole  east  glowed  with  gold  and  scarlet, 
and  the  hollow  of   heaven  was  filled  with  the  daylight. 

The  isle  —  the  undiscovered,  the  scarce  believed  in  —  now  lay 
before  them  and  close  aboard  ;  and  Herrick  thought  that  never 
in  his  dreams  had  he  beheld  anything  more  strange  and  delicate. 
The  beach  was  excellently  white,  the  continuous  barrier  of  trees 
inimitably  green  ;  the  land  perhaps  ten  feet  high,  the  trees  thirty 
more.  Every  here  and  there,  as  the  schooner  coasted  northward, 
the  wood  was  intermitted  ;  and  he  could  see  clear  over  the  incon- 
siderable strip  of  land  (as  a  man  looks  over  a  wall)  to  the  lagoon 

1  By  permission  of  Charles  Scribner's  Sons. 


VOCABULARY   IX  DESCRIPTION  131 

within;  and  clear  over  that,  again,  to  where  the  far  side  of  the 
atoll  prolonged  its  pencilling  of  trees  against  the  morning  sky. 
He  tortured  himself  to  find  analogic-.  The  isle  was  like  the  rim 
of  a  great  vessel  sunken  in  the  waters  ;  it  was  like  the  embank- 
ment of  an  annular  railway  grown  upon  with  wood.  So  slender  it 
seemed  amidst  the  outrageous  breakers,  so  frail  and  pretty,  he 
would  scarce  have  wondered  to  see  it  sink  and  disappear  without 
a  sound,  and  the  waves  close  smoothly  over  its  descent. 

The  second  example  is  Hawthorne's  description  of  the 
pigs,  from  "  The  Blithedale  Romance  " :  — 

I  can  nowise  explain  what  sort  of  whim,  prank,  or  perversity 
it  was,  that,  after  all  these  leave-takings,  induced  me  to  go  to  the 
pigsty,  and  take  leave  of  the  swine  !  There  they  lay,  buried  as 
deeply  among  the  straw  as  they  could  burrow,  four  huge  black 
grunters,  the  very  symbols  of  slothful  ease  and  sensual  comfort. 
They  were  asleep,  drawing  short  and  heavy  breaths,  which  heaved 
their  big  sides  up  and  down.  Unclosing  their  eyes,  however,  at 
my  approach,  they  looked  dimly  forth  at  the  outer  world,  and 
simultaneously  uttered  a  gentle  grunt ;  not  putting  themselves  to 
the  trouble  of  an  additional  breath  for  that  particular  purpose, 
but  grunting  with  their  ordinary  inhalation.  They  were  involved, 
and  almost  stifled  and  buried  alive,  in  their  own  corporeal  sub- 
stance. The  very  unreadiness  and  oppression  wherewith  these 
greasy  citizens  gained  breath  enough  to  keep  their  life-machinery 
in  sluggish  movement,  appeared  to  make  them  only  the  more 
sensible  of  the  ponderous  and  fat  satisfaction  of  their  exist- 
ence. Peeping  at  me,  an  instant,  out  of  their  small,  red,  hardly 
perceptible  eyes,  they  dropped  asleep  again  ;  yet  not  so  far  asleep 
but  that  their  unctuous  bliss  was  still  present  to  them,  betwixt 
dream  and  reality. 

Here  Hawthorne  shows  the  highest  command  of  style. 
His  words  and  figures  of  speech  not  only  express  the 
meanings  and  suggestions  that  he  wishes  to  convey,  but 
the  very  heaviness  and  fulness  of  sound  in  "corporeal 
substance,"  "ponderous  and  fat  satisfaction,"  and  "  unctuous 
bliss,"  contribute  to  the  effect  which  lie  intends  to  produce. 


132  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

The  possibilities  of  poetic  language  in  pure  description 
are  admirably  illustrated  by  the  account  of  Cleopatra's 
Barge  in  Shakspere's  "  Antony  and  Cleopatra "  (Act  II, 
Scene  2). 

Note.  — Materials  for  the  study  of  description  of  places  abound  in  books 
with  which  the  students  are  familiar.  They  should  be  required  to  search 
for  such  material,  and  to  bring  specimens  to  the  class  for  use  in  both 
critical  (analytic)  and  constructive  work.  A  free  discussion,  led  by  the 
teacher,  may  profitably  follow  the  reading  of  a  student's  selection.  In  this 
discussion,  however,  the  class  should  remember  that  true  criticism  jjoints 
out  excellences  as  well  as  defects. 

The  following  citations  will  be  of  assistance  :  ■ — Chaucer's  "  Knight's 
Tale,"  lines  1109-1136  (or  Dryden's  "  Palamon  and  Arcite,"  Book  n,  lines 
524-559);  Spenser's  "  Faerie  Queene,"  Book  i,  Canto  i,  stanza  34;  Gold- 
smith's "  Traveller  "  and  "  Deserted  Village  " ;  Byron's  "  Childe  Harold," 
Canto  in,  stanzas  85-89, 92-93,  "Siege  of  Corinth,"  11 ;  Wordsworth's  "Mar- 
garet; or,  The  Ruined  Cottage,"  lines  1-69  (pp.  5-7  *),  "  Prelude,"  Book  i, 
lines  18-61  (pp.  69-70),  Book  xiv,  lines  1-129  (pp.  194-197),  "Excursion," 
Book  n,  lines  827-881  (pp.  198-200),  "Poems  on  the  Naming  of  Places" 
(pp.  104-108),  etc. ;  Shelley's  "  Among  the  Euganean  Hills,"  lines  66-141 ; 
Gray's  "  Letters  "  and  "Journal  in  the  Lakes"  (Phelps's  "  Selections  from 
Gray,"  pp.  93-125) ;  Cowper's  "Task,"  Book  i,  lines  210-364;  Tennyson's 
"Princess"  (Prologue)  and  "Enoch  Arden";  Irving's  "Sketch  Book" 
and  "Alhambra";  Green's  "Short  History  of  the  English  People," 
Chapter  n,  Section  9  (Chateau  Gaillard) ;  Scott's  "Ivauhoe"  (Chapters 
i,  in,  vn),  "  Quentin  Durward  "  (Chapters  in,  xxvm),  "Pirate"  (Chap- 
ters i,  xxvm),  "Talisman"  (Chapter  vn),  "Antiquary"  (Chapter  vn), 
"  Bride  of  Lammermoor  "  (Chapter  xvm) ;  the  description  of  the  Kashmir 
Serai  in  Kipling's  "Kim"  (Chapter  i). 

Narratives  of  travel,  adventure,  and  discovery  afford  a  great  variety 
of  material.  Among  these  may  be  mentioned  Hakluyt's  "  Voyages,"  and 
the  works  of  Admiral  Byron,  Dana,  Stanley,  Kane,  Nansen,  Lord  Dufferin, 
Mrs.  Brassey,  and  Miss  Mary  Kingsley.  See  also  Parkman's  "Oregon 
Trail,"  Irving's  "  Astoria,"  Hawthorne's  "  Italian  Note-Books,"  and  Long- 
fellow's "  Outre-Mer."    Most  novels  also  abound  in  descriptive  passages. 

The  "  special  correspondence  "  in  the  better  class  of  newspapers  con- 
tains many  good  descriptions  of  places,  which  may  be  utilized  as  specimens 
and  as  material  for  exercises.  The  students  will  easily  perceive  the  differ- 
ence between  these  articles  and  the  more  carelessly  written  columns  of 

1  The  page  references  are  to  Dowden's  "  Poems  of  "Wordsworth  "  in  the 
Athenaeum  Press  Series. 


SPECIMENS  OF   DESCRIPTION  133 

the  same  journals.  They  may  combine  their  study  of  such  descriptions 
with  their  lessons  in  physical  and  political  geography  and  in  history. 

Examples  of  personal  description  are  plentiful ;  they  may  be  found  in 
most  novels,  in  biographical  works,  and  in  descriptive  poems.  The  follow- 
ing references  will  be  of  assistance:  —  Chaucer's  "  Prologue  to  the  Canter- 
bury Tales";  Dryden's  "Character  of  a  Good  Parson"  (from  Chaucer) ; 
Dryden's  "  Palamon  and  Arcite,"  Book  in,  lines  38-89;  Thomson's 
"Castle  of  Indolence,"  Canto  i,  stanzas  57-68;  Goldsmith's  "Deserted 
Village,"  lines  139-192;  Scott's  "  Ivanhoe  "  (for  example,  Chapters  n  and 
xxii),  "Kenilworth"  (Chapters  i,  xxvi),  " Quentin  Durward "  (Chapter 
ii),  and  "Talisman"  (Chapters  i,  xvn) ;  Longfellow's  "Tales  of  a 
Wayside  Inn,"  "  Evangeline,"  aud  "Courtship  of  Miles  Standish";  the 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  papers  in  "  The  Spectator  " ;  Mrs.  Gaskell's  "  Cran- 
ford";  Green's  "Short  History  of  the  English  People,"  Chapter  vi, 
Section  4  (Henry  VIII),  Chapter  vn,  Section  3  (Queen  Elizabeth) ;  Haw- 
thorne's "House  of  the  Seven  Gables,"  "Twice-Told  Tales,"  "Wonder 
Book,"  and  "  Tanglewood  Tales";  Milton's  "Paradise  Lost,"  Book  n; 
Irving's  "Sketch  Book,"  "Tales  of  a  Traveller,"  and  "  Bracebridge 
Hall  "  ;  Kipling's  "  Kim,"  Chapter  i,  p.  6  (description  of  the  lama) ;  the 
close  of  Stevenson's  essay  on  Villon ;  the  description  of  the  uncle  in 
Stevenson's  "Merry  Men,"  Chapter  n;  Wordsworth's  "  Margaret"  (lines 
26  ff.,  p.  6),  "Simon  Lee"  (pp.  27-28),  "The  Old  Cumberland  Beggar" 
(pp.  38-39),  "Beggars"  (pp.  132-133),  "The  Solitary  Reaper"  (pp.  178- 
179),  "She  was  a  Phantom  of  Delight"  (p.  184),  "Characteristics  of  a 
Child"  (pp.  237-238). 

There  is  much  vivid  description  of  persons  in  Mr.  Austin  Dobson's 
"Eighteenth  Century  Vignettes":  see,  for  instance,  the  description  of 
Horace  Walpole  in  "  A  Day  at  Strawberry  Hill  " ;  that  of  Swift  writing 
in  bed,  in  the  essay  on  "  The  Journal  to  Stella"-;  that  of  Richardson  and 
his  circle  in  "Richardson  at  Home."  The  last-mentioned  example  is  the 
description  of  a  picture.  The  same  essay  describes  a  portrait  of  Richardson. 

An  instructive  series  of  descriptions  of  portraits  may  be  found  in  Steven- 
son's "Some  Portraits  by  Raeburn  "  (No.  8  in  his  "  Virginibus  Pueris- 
que").  A  graphic  and  amusing  description  of  an  old  engraving  is 
M  r.  Jebb's  account  of  the  frontispiece  to  "  Phalaris  "  (see  his  "  Bentley  " 
in  the  "  English  Men  of  Letters  "). 

The  first  chapter  of  Emily  Bronte's  "  Wuthering  Heights"  is  a  good 
example  of  description  (both  personal  and  local)  in  the  form  of  narrative 
intermingled  with  dialogue. 

George  Borrow's  account  of  his  meeting  with  the  poacher  and  his  "  fairy 
dog"  in  "  Lavengro  "  (Chapter  xii)  combines,  in  a  masterly  way  and  in 
brief  space,  action,  conversation,  personal  description,  and  description  of 
scenery. 


134  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORTC 

EXERCISES   IN  DESCRIPTION 
Description  and  Exposition  Compared  (p.  96) 

1.  Find  an  example  of  explanatory  description  and  one  of 
literary  or  poetical  description.  Point  out  resemblances  and 
differences  between  them. 

2.  Describe  an  old  house,  (a)  as  if  you  were  considering  it  as 
an  investment ;  (5)  as  if  you  had  lived  in  it  in  childhood,  and  had 
returned  to  visit  it  after  many  years. 

3.  Compare  some  geographical  description  of  a  river  with 
George  Eliot's  description  of  the  Floss  (p.  99). 

4.  Compare  Dickens's  description  of  Marseilles  (pp.  113-111) 
with  some  description  of  a  city  or  town  in  a  guide  book  or 
geography. 

Pictures  and  Descriptions  Compared  (p.  97) 

1.  Bring  to  the  class  a  picture  from  some  magazine,  together 
with  a  description.  In  the  class,  exchange  pictures  with  another 
student  and  describe  (in  writing)  the  picture  which  you  have 
received  in  return.  Compare  your  first  description  with  that 
written  by  the  student  who  receives  your  picture,  criticising  both 
descriptions  in  the  comparison.  (In  the  same  way,  your  second 
description  will  be  compared  with  that  of  the  student  who  had 
first  described  the  picture.) 

After  criticism,  these  descriptions  may  be  read  to  the  class  and 
a  vote  may  be  taken  upon  their  relative  merits. 

2.  Describe  a  picture  with  which  you  are  familiar.  (1)  Tell 
whether  it  is  an  oil  painting,  a  water  color,  or  a  photograph  or 
other  reproduction;  (2)  tell  its  name;  (3)  state  the  general 
character  of  the  subject,  unless  the  name  has  indicated  this. 
(This  serves  as  an  introduction  to  your  description.) 

Choose  what  seems  to  you  the  central  or  most  important  thing 
in  the  picture.  Present  that  first  to  your  hearers ;  then  describe 
the  other  objects  which  appear  in  the  picture,  bringing  them  into 
relation  to  the  central  object.  For  example  :  —  "A  small  water 
color  hangs  on  the  wall  in  my  study.  It  represents  a  red  rock 
rising  out  of  the  sea.  The  waves  are  breaking  in  white  spray 
against  it.  The  sea  is  gray-green,  softened  by  the  gray  sky 
above.    Behind  the  rock  appear  the  gray  sails  of  a  fishing-boat, 


EXERCISES  IN   DESCRIPTION  135 

and   far  away,  hardly  discernible   against   the  sky,  is  the  faint 
outline  of  a  distant  ship." 

3.  Write  a  description  of  some  familiar  scene  (an  assembly 
room  at  school,  the  interior  of  the  children's  room  in  a  library, 
a  dull  gray  morning  at  the  market) ;  then  point  out  the  elements 
in  your  description  which  a  picture  could  not  have  included. 

4.  What  features  of  "The  Inn  Kitchen"  (p.  89)  could  have 
been  represented  by  a  picture  ? 

5.  What  elements  of  "  The  Winter  Walk  at  Noon  "  (p.  102) 
might  a  picture  indicate  ?    What  features  must  a  picture  omit? 

6.  Imagine  yourself  as  showing  to  a  friend  a  photograph  of 
a  scene  familiar  to  you.  Give  the  description  which  is  necessary 
to  supplement  the  picture. 

Action  in  Description  (p.  100) 

1.  Describe  a  traveller,  overburdened  with  bags  and  parcels, 
arriving  at  the  railway  station  just  too  late  for  his  train.  Empha- 
size movement  and  action. 

2.  The  fire  alarm  sounds  in  the  night.  You  listen  and  dis- 
cover that  the  fire  is  near  your  own  house.  You  rise,  dress,  and 
hasten  to  the  scene.    Describe  what  you  find  there. 

3.  Visit  some  manufactory  and  describe  the  work  which  you 
see  there.  Try  to  describe  the  steady  hum  of  the  machines,  the 
quick  and  continuous  movement  of  the  workers,  the  general  activity 

and  air  of  business. 

4.  Read  Tennyson's  "  Song  of  the  Brook  "  with  special  refer- 
ence to  words  and  phrases  which  denote  or  suggest  movement. 

5.  Describe  the  unexpected  coming  of  a  thunderstorm  on  a 
summer  afternoon.  Everybody  hurries  to  close  windows,  to  fasten 
shutters,  or  to  bring  in  chairs  from  the  piazza.  Show  how  narra- 
tion and  description  mingle  in  such  a  composition. 

6.  Find  in  "  Ivanhoe  "  or  "A  Tale  of  Two  Cities"  examples 
of  action  in  description,  and  also  of  description  of  action. 

Sensations  in  Description  (p.  102) 

1.  Note  the  specific  sensations  suggested  in  this  paragraph 
from   "  David  Copperfield  "  :  — 

"  How  well  I  recollect  the  kind  of  day  it  was  !  T  smell  the  fog 
that  hung  about  the  place;  I  see  the  hoarfrost  ghostly,  through 


136  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

it;  I  feel  my  rimy  hair  fall  clammy  on  my  cheek  ;  I  look  along 
the  dim  perspective  of  the  schoolroom,  with  a  spluttering  candle 
here  and  there  to  light  up  the  foggy  morning,  and  the  breath  of 
the  boys  wreathing  and  smoking  in  the  raw  cold  as  they  blow 
upon  their  fingers,  and  tap  their  feet  upon  the  floor." 

Write  a  similar  description,  keeping  in  mind  some  famil- 
iar scene. 

2.  In  "An  August  Day  in  Marseilles"  (p.  113),  Dickens 
makes  emphatic  the  intense  and  unmitigated  heat,  subordinating 
the  other  elements  of  his  description  to  secure  this  effect.  Study 
the  description,  to  see  by  what  means  this  specific  sensation  is 
intensified. 

3.  Study  the  following  description  from  Goldsmith's  "Deserted 
Village."  Explain  the  use  of  the  descriptive  words  or  phrases 
which  you  find  in  the  lines,  particularly  those  which  express  sound 
or  movement.  What  does  the  description  tell  that  a  picture  could 
not  represent  ? 

Sweet  was  the  sound,  when  oft  at  evening's  close 

Up  yonder  hill  the  village  murmur  rose. 

There,  as  1  pass'd  with  careless  steps  and  slow, 

The  mingling  notes  came  soften'd  from  below  : 

The  swain  responsive  as  the  milkmaid  sung; 

The  sober  herd  that  lowed  to  meet  their  young; 

The  noisy  geese  that  gabbled  o'er  the  pool ; 

The  playful  children  just  let  loose  from  school  ; 

The  watch-dog's  voice  that  bayed  the  whispering  wind, 

And  the  loud  laugh  that  spoke  the  vacant  mind  : 

These  all  in  sweet  confusion  sought  the  shade, 

And  filled  each  pause  the  nightingale  had  made. 

4.  Study  the  extract  from  "The  Winter  Walk  at  Noon" 
(pp.  102-103),  observing  the  descriptive  words  and  phrases 
which  the  poet  has  employed.  Note  especially  the  expressions 
which  would  not  be  used  in  a  merely  explanatory  description. 
Study  carefully  the  words  which  you  are  not  accustomed  to  use 
in  speaking  or  writing,  and  be  ready  to  use  them  accurately  in 
sentences  of  your  own. 

Which   expressions  indicate  the  poet's  interpretation  of  the 

scene,  and  show  his  mood? 


EXERCISES   IX   DESCRIPTION  137 

Thk  Beginning  of  a  Description  (p.  106) 

1.  Read  over  the  descrij)tive  selections  in  this  book  with 
special  reference  to  the  introduction.  How  does  each  descrip- 
tion  begin  ? 

2.  AVrite  an  appropriate  introduction  —  a  sentence  or  a  para- 
graph —  for  each  theme  named  in  the  following  list  :  —  (1)  "When 
the  Day's  "Work  is  Done  ;  (2)  The  Village  Playground;  (3)  Beaver 
Brook  in  Winter;  (I)  An  Abandoned  Farm;  (5)  The  Yacht 
Race;  (6)  When  School  Begins  ;  (7)  The  First  Snowfall ;  (8)  The 
Apple  Harvest ;  (9)  Afternoon  Tea ;  (10)  Mary's  Aunt  Maria. 


Description  of  a  Place  (p.  107) 

1.  Write  a  description,  using  the  following  subject  and  plan  :  — 
My  grandfather's  house,  (1)  from  without,  —  description  of  the 
surroundings  and  the  house  itself  ;  (2)  from  within,  —  the  rooms 
with  their  furnishings,  and  the  inmates. 

2.  Imagine  yourself  as  living  in  Louisiana.  You  visit  a  friend 
in  New  England  at  Christmas.  Write  to  your  friends  at  home, 
describing  your  visit. 

3.  Reverse  the  conditions  in  the  preceding  exercise,  and  write 
from  New  Orleans. 

4.  Select  from  "The  Lady  of  the  Lake"  some  good  descrip- 
tion of  a  place  or  scene.  Read  the  description  to  the  class, 
pointing  out  the  features  which  illustrate  the  principles  of 
descriptive  writing. 

5.  Analyze  some  short  description  of  a  place,  making  an  out- 
line as  you  read.  Prepare  a  subject  for  each  paragraph.  Enu- 
merate tin:  details  in  each.  Then  rewrite  the  description  from 
your  outline. 

6.  Write  a  description  of  a  field  or  pasture  with  which  you 
are  familiar.  Imagine  that  you  are  standing  by  the  pasture  bars 
and  looking  at  the  scene  which  you  describe.  Do  not  change 
your  point  of  view  during  the  description. 

7.  Observe  some  vacant  lot.  Note  its  situation,  its  surround- 
ings; the  shrubs,  flowers,  weeds,  or  accumulated  < l«-j x .sil s  ;  the 
children  at  play.  Write  a  composition  upon  ••  The  Geography  of 
a  Vacant  Lot,"  embodying  your  observations. 


138  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

8.  Describe  some  house  as  clearly  as  you  can.  Read  your 
description  to  the  class,  asking  the  students  to  draw  the  house 
from  your  description.  Compare  the  drawings,  and  see  whether 
they  represent  what  you  actually  described. 

9.  You  are  spending  a  year  on  a  farm.  Give  an  account  of  a 
day's  work  in  summer  and  in  winter,  describing  the  places  in 
which  the  work  goes  on. 

10.  Describe    your    town    in    the    manner   suggested    in    Dr. 
Arnold's  letter  (p.  107). 

The  Point  of  View  in  Description  (p.  108) 

1.  A  hungry  newsboy  stands  in  front  of  a  restaurant,  looking 
in  at  the  meats  and  pastry  displayed  in  the  window,  at  the  coun- 
ters heaped  with  food,  and  the  tables  surrounded  by  persons 
eating  dinner. 

a.  Describe  the  scene  in  the  newsboy's  words,  using  the 

first  person  and  the  present  tense. 

b.  A  benevolent  woman,  standing  within  and  holding  her 

own  boy  by  the  hand,  looks  out,  sees  the  newsboy, 
recognizes  his  need,  invites  him  in,  provides  him  with 
a  good  dinner,  and  leaves  him  enjoying  it.  Tell  the 
story  as  she  recited  it  to  her  children  in  the  evening, 
describing  the  newsboy,  and  expressing  her  own 
feeling. 

c.  Tell  the  story  as  a  friend  of  the  woman's,  looking  on, 

might  have  told  it  afterward.  Incidentally,  describe 
the  newsboy's  friend. 

2.  After  writing  the  preceding  exercises,  criticise  your  work. 
In  particular,  observe  whether  you  have  maintained  the  speaker's 
point  of  view.  Do  not  introduce  into  your  description  or  narra- 
tion anything  which  could  not  have  been  seen  by  the  speaker. 
Include  action  or  movement  in  your  description. 

3.  Describe  the  appearance  of  the  schoolyard  just  before  school 
opens :  —  (a)  as  if  you  were  the  teacher,  looking  down  from  an 
upper  window ;  (b)  as  if  you  were  a  child  in  the  lines  which 
are  forming. 

4.  Find  in  history  some  description  of  a  battlefield.  Change 
it,  to  make   it  apjjear  that  the  description   is  written  by  one 


EXERdSES  IN  DESCRIPTION  139 

who  took  part  in  the  engagement.     You  will  of  course  use  the 
first  person. 

5.  Imagine  yourself  as  returning  from  a  long  voyage  and 
entering  the  harbor  (New  York,  Boston,  or  San  Francisco). 
Describe  the  shore  as  it  appears,  (a)  when  first  seen  ;  (&)  on  nearer 
approach  ;  and  (c)  as  you  are  about  to  land. 

6.  Describe  the  successive  views  of  the  country  which  appear 
to  you  as  you  climb  a  hill  near  your  home. 

7.  Describe  the  country  in  your  neighborhood  as  it  appears 
from  a  train. 

8.  Describe  the  City  Hall  or  the  Town  House  from  without ; 
from  within. 

Time  in  Description  (p.  112) 

1.  Write  a  description  of  the  Valley  of  the  Floss  (p.  99)  as 
you  imagine  it  would  look  (1)  on  a  hot  day  in  July;  (2)  on  a 
bright  clear  day  in  January,  with  snow  on  the  ground. 

2.  Describe  your  own  neighborhood  on  a  cloudy  day  in  Feb- 
ruary ;  on  a  calm,  clear  morning  in  July. 

3.  Rewrite  the  description  which  you  prepared  in  Exercise  10 
(p.  138),  putting  in  such  details  of  weather,  sky,  and  air  as  may 
give  your  reader  a  good  idea  of  the  place  in  summer ;  in  winter. 

4.  Describe  a  scene  at  a  county  fair  in  fine  weather. 

5.  Describe  the  same  scene  during  a  sudden  shower. 

6.  Describe  a  holiday  procession  in  a  city  on  a  bright  day  in 
early  summer.    Do  not  forget  the  spectators. 

7.  Describe  the  same  scene  during  a  sudden  thunderstorm. 

8.  Rain  in  summer. 

a.  Describe  the  appearance  of  the  country  before  the  rain. 

b.  Indications  of  the  coming  shower. 

c.  The  shower  itself. 

d.  The  effect  of  the  rain. 

9.  Write  a  description  of  a  public  square  in  Havana  or  Manila 
in  the  rainy  season  ;   in  the  dry  season. 

10.  Describe  a  city  street  on  a  dusty  day  in  March,  with  the 
east  wind  blowing. 

11.  Describe  a  storm  on  Lake  Michigan,  rmagine  yourself  on 
the  lake  in  a  small  sailboat,  with  three  companions.  Define  the 
time  carefully. 


140  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

12.  Describe  a  storm  on  the  coast  of  Maine,  as  in  No.  11  ;  in 
Chesapeake  Bay ;  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico  ;  on  the  coast  of  South- 
ern California.    Be  sure  to  define  the  time. 

13.  Describe  a  storm  in  the  mountains.  Fix  the  place  and 
the  time  before  you  begin. 

14.  After  reading  the  description  of  Marseilles  in  August 
(p.  113),  write  a  description  of  that  city  as  you  imagine  it  might 
appear  on  a  cold,  drizzly  day  in  March. 

15.  Find  a  piece  of  description  in  narration  which  is  clearly 
defined  in  time.  Show  whether  the  time  is  fixed,  as  in  the  August 
day  in  Marseilles  (p.  113),  or  changing,  as  in  the  extract  from 
Weyman  (p.  112). 

16.  Write  a  description  of  a  moving  object,  seen  at  various  dis- 
tances :  —  as  an  approaching  steamship,  whose  coming  is  watched 
from  the  shore ;  or  a  procession,  heard  before  it  appears  ;  or  a 
hand-organ,  followed  by  an  increasing  group  of  children. 

Description  of  Persons  (p.  115) 

1.  Study  Franklin's  description  of  himself  (pp.  12-13).  Note 
the  details  that  help  to  produce  the  desired  impression  on  the 
imagination  of  the  reader. 

2.  Bring  a  photograph  of  some  person  to  the  class,  and  try 
to  write  a  description  that  will  make  the  other  pupils  recognize 
it.  Then  show  them  the  photograph  and  see  if  they  would  recog- 
nize it  from  your  description. 

3.  Find  a  description  of  a  person,  in  some  story  or  his- 
torical work  that  you  have  read.  Observe  the  items  included  in 
the  description.    Do  they  refer  to  appearance  or  to  character  ? 

4.  Read  the  description  of  Miss  Trotwood  in  "  David  Cop- 
perfield "  •,  of  Uriah  Deep ;  of  Traddles.  Comment  upon  the 
descriptions. 

5.  Read  "  The  Last  Leaf,"  by  Holmes.  Observe  and  report 
the  personal  description  in  the  poem. 

6.  Write  a  description  of  a  lost  child  for  insertion  in  a  local 
newspaper. 

7.  Describe  a  scene  which  you  have  observed  in  a  street  car. 
Indicate  in  the  description  the  appearance  and  characteristics 
of  the  passengers  mentioned. 


EXERCISES  IN   DESCRIPTION  141 

8.  Write  an  account  of  a  day  in  a  hay  field.  Include  a 
description  of  the  field  when  the  men  are  at  work,  and  describe 
their  appearance. 

Character  in  Descriptions  (p.  118) 

1.  Study  the  description  of  Scrooge  in  Dickens's  "  Christmas 
Carol."     Indicate  («)  the  details  which  bring  out  his  character; 

(b)  those  which  indicate  appearance  only  and  which  might  have 
been  included  in  a  picture  ;  (c)  those  which  indicate  habit  or  action. 

2.  Make  a  list  of  ten  descriptive  words  which  suggest  or 
interpret  character. 

3.  Bring  to  the  class  three  good  descriptions  of  persons.  Pick 
out  (a)  the  words  or  phrases  that  describe  features ;  (b)  those 
that   describe    general    appearance,    manners,    and    movements ; 

(c)  those  that  interpret  or  express  character. 

Omit  (a)  and  read  the  description  aloud.  Do  the  same  with 
(b)  and  (c).    Note  the  loss  in  each  case. 

4.  Describe  a  character  in  some  book  you  have  read  recently. 
Include  quotations  which  throw  light  upon  the  character. 

5.  Write  an  account  of  a  day  spent  in  taking  care  of  a  fretful 
and  mischievous  child.  In  the  course  of  your  6tory,  describe  the 
child  and  outline  his  character. 

6.  "  What  sort  of  person  is  your  friend  Brown  ?  "  asks  your 
neighbor.  Reply  by  telling  an  incident  which  indicates  the  char- 
acter of  your  friend. 

7.  Describe  the  applewoman  at  the  corner,  or  the  popcorn  man. 

8.  Peggy  is  a  country  girl  who  is  making  her  first  visit  to 
the  city.  With  her  aunt  and  uncle  she  hears  a  fine  concert 
for  the  first  time.  Give  an  account  of  the  evening  in  such  a 
manner  as  to  describe   Peggy's  character. 

9.  Study  the  description  of  "The  Virtuous  Woman"  in  the 
Bible  (Proverbs  xxxi).  By  what  means  is  her  character  por- 
trayed?   Would  adjectives  serve  to  express  the  same   ideas? 

10.  Read  Lowell's  poem,  "My  Love,"  studying  it  as  a  descrip- 
tion of  character.  Then  describe  the  character  in  prose,  trying  to 
include  the  essential  elements  of  the  pint's  description. 

11.  How  is  the  character  of  Z\I i ss  Matty  brought  out  in 
"Cranford"?  Give  other  illustrations  of  description  of  personal 
appearance  and  characteristic  behavior  from  "Cranford." 


142  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

12.  Study  this  description  from  Browning.    By  what  means  if* 
the  character  presented  to  the  reader  ? 

One  who  never  turned  his  back,  but  inarched  breast  forward, 
Never  doubted  clouds  would  break, 

Never  dreamed,  though  right  were  worsted,  wrong  would  triumph 
Held  we  fall  to  rise,  are  baffled  to  fight  better, 
Sleep  to  wake. 

13.  Find  or  write  another  description,  in  which  the  character 
of  a  person  is  portrayed  by  showing  what  he  did. 

Comparison  and  Contrast  in  Description  (pp.  120-123) 

1.  Of  two  brothers,   one  is  rich,  the  other  poor.    Contrast 
their  homes. 

2.  Contrast  two  imaginary  scenes,  the  one  reposeful,  the  other 
turbulent. 

3.  Compare  Brutus  and  Cassius. 

4.  Study  this  description  carefully,  observing  the  comparison  : 

It  is  with  men  as  with  trees:  if  you  lop  off  their  finest  branches, 
into  which  they  were  pouring  their  young  life-juice,  the  wounds 
will  be  healed  over  with  some  rough  boss,  some  odd  excrescence ; 
and  what  might  have  been  a  grand  tree  expanding  into  liberal 
shade,  is  but  a  whimsical  misshapen  trunk.  Many  an  irritating- 
fault,  many  an  unlovely  oddity,  has  come  of  a  hard  sorrow,  which 
has  crushed  and  maimed  the  nature  just  when  it  was  expanding 
into  plenteous  beauty ;  and  the  trivial  erring  life  which  we  visit 
with  our  harsh  blame,  may  be  but  as  the  unsteady  motion  of  a 
man  whose  best  limb  is  withered.  —  George  Eliot. 

State  the  truth  of  the  selection  in  plain  language,  without 
attempting  a  comparison. 

Present  each  description  by  itself,  pointing  out  its  beauties  of 
thought  and  expression;  then  compare  the  two,  showing  the 
parallel. 

Miscellaneous  Exercises 

Study  the  following  outlines;  then  rewrite  each  description 
from  memory,  using  the  outline  as  a  guide.  Before  writing, 
make  notes  of  the  subordinate  details  in  each  paragraph,  and 
arrange  them  so  as  to  emphasize  the  point  of  each  description. 


EXERCISES  IN   DESCRIPTION  143 

1.  An  Iceberg  (pp.  91-92) 

a.  Introduction.  —  The  damp  chilly  air  and  falling  tempera- 

ture indicate  ice  near  us.  The  cook  announces  the 
fine  sight. 

b.  The    iceberg.  —  (1)    Its    appearance,  —  shape,    contour, 

size;  the  surrounding  water.  (2)  Sublimity  of  the 
sight,  —  size  of  the  berg,  motion,  dashing  waves, 
thundering  sound ;  our  fear  of  its  nearer  approach. 

c.  The  night;  disappearance  of  the  iceberg. 

2.  The  Old  Boat  (pp.  92-94) 

a.  The  way  to  the  house. 

b.  The  old  boat,  from  without. 

c.  The  old  boat,  from  within. 

3.  Dinah  Morris    (pp.  118-119) 

a.  Dinah's  manner  and  general  appearance  as  she  entered, 

indicating  simplicity,  unconsciousness,  absence  of 
affectation. 

b.  Her  attitude  toward  those  about  her. 

c.  Her  face  (picture,  impression). 

d.  Effect  upon  those  who  saw  her. 

4.  Study  Miss  Mitford's  description  of  "  The  Country  in 
Winter"  (p.  94).  Note  how  she  contrives  to  take  the  reader 
with  her  from  place  to  place,  so  that  he  seems  to  see  the  land- 
scape with  his  own  eyes  rather  than  the  writer's.  By  what  means 
does  she  secure  this  effect  ? 

Write  the  description  in  the  first  person  singular,  substituting 
the  past  tense  for  the  present,  and  note  the  effect. 

5.  Miss  Mitford  is  describing  an  English  scene.  Does  the 
description  show  this?  How  does  the  country  which  Miss 
Mitford  describes  differ  from  your  neighborhood? 

What  phrases  do  you  find  in  the  description  which  do  not 
occur  in  your  own  colloquial  English  ? 

Study  the  comparisons  in  the  description.  Do  they  add  to  its 
beauty  and  effectiveness? 

What  characteristics  of  the  writer  does  the  description  reveal? 


144  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

6.  Take  a  walk  to  the  nearest  bit  of  country.  Then  write 
a  description  of  your  walk,  after  the  manner  of  Miss  Mitford. 
Imagine  that  you  have  a  child  with  you,  to  whom  you  speak  of 
the  things  which  attract  your  attention  and  interest  you. 

7.  Study  "  An  August  Day  in  Marseilles." 
What  is  the  effect  of  the  introductory  sentence  ? 

Try  to  express  in  a  fitting  sentence  or  phrase  the  substance  of 
the  next  paragraph.  By  what  device  does  the  author  make  you 
realize  the  intensity  of  the  heat  on  this  day  ? 

What  does  the  next  paragraph  add  to  the  description  ?  How 
is  the  effect  produced  ? 

Show  how  the  next  paragraph  extends  the  view,  intensifies  the 
feeling  of  heat,  and  introduces  specific  details. 

Would  the  last  sentence  of  this  paragraph  have  been  equally 
effective  at  the  beginning  ?    Give  your  reasons. 

Point  out  a  number  of  words  or  phrases  which  impart  vivid- 
ness to  the  description. 

Note  the  repetition  of  stare  in  the  description.  Do  not  try  to  imitate  this. 
Such  devices  are  best  left  to  the  great  writers,  who  know  how  to  employ 
them. 

8.  Read  and  study  Byron's  description  of  night  on  the  Gulf 
of  Corinth  ("The  Siege  of  Corinth,"  lines  242-283),  as  an 
example  of  poetical  description.  Read  the  verses  several  times  to 
feel  their  beauty  of  expression  and  the  complete  fitness  of  word 
and  phrase.  Be  sure  that  you  understand  every  word  and  allusion. 
Then  analyze  the  verses  to  discover  the  means  which  the  poet 
has  employed  in  writing  the  description. 

1.  Study  the  descriptive  words  and  phrases.    Note  their  ar- 

rangement and  their  sound,  as  well  as  their  meaning. 

2.  What  fixes  the  time  of  the  scene  ? 

3.  What  lines  furnish  the  setting  ? 

4.  How  is  the  calmness  of  the  night  made  evident? 

5.  How  is  the  thought  led  from  the  quietness  of  sky  and 

sea  to  the  hosts  encamped  on  the  land  ? 

6.  What  feeling  is  introduced  by  the  Muezzin's  call? 

7.  How  do  lines  274-283  change  the  setting? 


CHAPTER  IV 

EXPOSITION 

Pages  145-157  contain  five  specimens  of  exposition,  to 
which  we  shall  have  occasion  to  refer  from  time  to  time 
in  our  study  of  this  form  of  discourse. 

The  first  specimen,  "  The  Smudge,"  by  Dr.  Van  Dyke,  is 
from  an  entertaining  book  of  out-of-door  life.  It  explains 
a  process,  —  not  formally,  but  in  a  style  of  pleasant  humor. 

The  second,  Sir  George  Grey's  "Australian  Kangaroo 
Hunt,"  also  explains  how  something  is  done.  It  adopts 
the  narrative  form  and  is  full  of  action. 

The  third,  Professor  Davis's  account  of  "  The  Influence 
of  Climate  on  Manners  and  Customs,"  is  a  good  example  of 
simple  and  interesting  scientific  exposition,  —  exact  and 
methodical,  but  with  a  minimum  of  technicality. 

The  fourth  and  fifth,  Lubbock's  "Fertilization  of  Plants" 
and  Professor  Goss's  "  Locomotive,"  are  somewhat  more 
technical,  and  illustrate  the  use  of  diagrams. 

I.    THE   SMUDGE  i 

By  Henry  Van  Dyke 

But  enough  of  the  cooking-fire.  Let  us  turn  now  to  the  sub- 
ject of  the  smudge,  known  in  Lower  Canada  as  la  boucana. 
The  smudge  owes  its  existence  to  the  pungent  mosquito,  the 
sanguinary  Mack-fly,  and  the  peppery  midge,-  le  maringouin,  la 
moustique,  et  In  briilot.  To  what  it  owes  its  English  name  I  do 
not  know  ;  hut  its  French  name  means  simph  a  thick,  nauseat- 
ing, intolerable  smoke. 

1  From  "  Fisherman's  Luck  "  (by  permission  oi  Charles  Scribner's  Sons). 

lib 


146  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

The  smudge  is  called  into  being  for  the  express  purpose  of 
creating  a  smoke  of  this  kind,  which  is  as  disagreeable  to  the 
mosquito,  and  black-fly,  and  the  midge,  as  it  is  to  the  man  whom 
they  are  devouring.  But  the  man  survives  the  smoke,  while  the 
insects  succumb  to  it,  being  destroyed  or  driven  away.  Therefore 
the  smudge,  dark  and  bitter  in  itself,  frequently  becomes,  like 
adversity,  sweet  in  its  uses.  It  must  be  regarded  as  a  form  of 
fire  with  which  man  has  made  friends  under  the  pressure  of  a 
cruel  necessity. 

It  would  seem  as  if  it  ought  to  be  the  simplest  affair  in  the 
world  to  light  up  a  smudge.  And  so  it  is  —  if  you  are  not  trying. 

An  attempt  to  produce  almost  any  other  kind  of  fire  will  bring 
forth  smoke  abundantly.  But  when  you  deliberately  undertake 
to  create  a  smudge,  flames  break  from  the  wettest  timber,  and 
green  moss  blazes  with  a  furious  heat.  You  hastily  gather  hand- 
fuls  of  seemingly  incombustible  material  and  throw  it  on  the 
fire,  but  the  conflagration  increases.  Grass  and  green  leaves  hesi- 
tate for  an  instant  and  then  flash  up  like  tinder.  The  more  you 
put  on,  the  more  your  smudge  rebels  against  its  proper  task  of 
smudging.  It  makes  a  pleasant  warmth,  to  encourage  the  black- 
flies  ;  and  bright  light  to  attract  and  cheer  the  mosquitoes.  Your 
effort  is  a  brilliant  failure. 

The  proper  way  to  make  a  smudge  is  this.  Begin  with  a  very 
little,  lowly  fire.  Let  it  be  bright  but  not  ambitious.  Don't  try 
to  make  a  smoke  yet. 

Then  gather  a  good  supply  of  stuff  which  seems  likely  to  sup- 
press fire  without  smothering  it.  Moss  of  a  certain  kind  will  do, 
but  not  the  soft,  feathery  moss  that  grows  so  deep  among  the 
spruce-trees.  Half-decayed  wood  is  good  ;  spongy,  moist,  unpleas- 
ant stuff,  a  vegetable  wet  blanket.  The  bark  of  dead  evergreen 
trees,  hemlock,  spruce,  or  balsam,  is  better  still.  Gather  a  plen- 
tiful store  of  it.    But  don't  try  to  make  a  smoke  yet. 

Let  your  fire  burn  a  while  longer ;  cheer  it  up  a  little.  Get 
some  clear,  resolute,  unquenchable  coals  aglow  in  the  heart  of  it. 
Don't  try  to  make  a  smoke  yet. 

Now  pile  on  your  smouldering  fuel.  Fan  it  with  your  hat. 
Kneel  down  and  blow  it,  and  in  ten  minutes  you  will  have  a 
smoke  that  will  make  you  wish  you  had  never  been  born. 

That  is  a  proper  way  to  make  a  smudge.  But  the  easiest 
way  is  to  ask  your  guide  to  make  it  for  you. 


EXPOSITION  147 

II.    AN   AUSTRALIAN   KANGAROO   HUNT* 
By  Sir  George  Grey 

The  moment  an  Australian  savage  commences  his  day's  hunt- 
ing, his  whole  manner  and  appearance  undergo  a  wondrous  change. 
His  eyes,  hefore  heavy  and  listless,  brighten  up,  and  are  never  for 
a  moment  fixed  upon  one  object ;  his  gait  and  movements,  which 
were  indolent  and  slow,  become  quick  and  restless,  yet  noiseless  ; 
he  moves  along  with  a  rapid,  stealthy  pace,  his  glance  roving  from 
side  to  side  in  a  vigilant  uneasy  manner,  arising  from  his  eager- 
ness to  detect  signs  of  game,  and  his  fears  of  hidden  foes.  The 
earth,  the  water,  the  trees,  the  skies,  each  are  in  turn  subjected  to 
a  rigid  scrutiny,  and  from  the  most  insignificant  circumstances 
he  deduces  omens.  His  head  is  held  erect,  and  his  progress  is 
uncertain.  In  a  moment  his  pace  is  checked  ;  he  stands  in  precisely 
the  position  of  motion  as  if  suddenly  transfixed.  Nothing  about 
him  stirs  but  his  eyes  ;  they  glance  uneasily  from  side  to  side, 
whilst  the  head  and  every  muscle  seem  immovable  ;  but  the  white 
eyeballs  may  be  seen  in  rapid  motion,  whilst  all  his  faculties  are 
concentrated,  and  his  whole  soul  is  absorbed  in  the  senses  of  sight 
and  hearing.  His  wives,  who  are  at  some  distance  behind  him, 
the  moment  they  see  him  assume  this  attitude,  fall  to  the  ground 
as  if  they  had  been  shot ;  their  children  cower  by  them,  and  their 
little  faces  express  an  earnestness  and  anxiousness  which  is  far 
beyond  their  years.  At  length  a  suppressed  whistle  is  given  by 
one  of  the  women,  which  denotes  that  she  sees  a  kangaroo  near 
her  husband  —  all  is  again  silence,  and  quietude  ;  and  an  unprac- 
tised  European  would  ride  within  a  few  yards  of  the  group,  and 
not  perceive  a  living  thing. 

Looking  about  a  hundred  yards  to  the  right  of  the  native,  you 
will  see  a  kangaroo  erect  upon  its  hind  legs,  and  supported  by  its 
tail.  It  is  reared  to  its  utmost  height,  so  that  its  head  is  between 
five  and  six  feet  above  the  ground.  Its  short  fore  paws  hang  by 
its  side  ;  its  ears  are  pointed  ;  it  is  listening  as  carefully  as  the 
native,  and  you  see  a  little  head  appearing  out  from  its  pouch,  to 
enquire  what  has  alarmed  its  mother.  But  the  native  moves  not  ; 
you  cannot  tell  whether  it  is  a  human  being  or  the  charred  trunk 
of  a  burnt  tree  which  is  before  you,  and  for  several  minutes  the 

1  From  "Travels  in  Western  ami  Northwestern  Australia." 


148  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

whole  group  preserve  their  relative  position.  At  length  the  kan- 
garoo becomes  reassured,  drops  upon  its  fore  paws,  gives  an  awk- 
ward leap  or  two,  and  goes  on  feeding, — the  little  inhabitant  of 
its  pouch  stretching  its  head  farther  out,  tasting  the  grass  its 
mother  is  eating,  and  evidently  debating  whether  or  not  it  is  safe 
to  venture  out  of  its  resting  place. 

Meantime  the  native  moves  not  until  the  kangaroo,  having 
two  or  three  times  resumed  the  attitude  of  listening,  and  having 
like  a  monkey  scratched  its  side  with  its  fore  paw,  at  length  once 
more  abandons  itself  in  perfect  security  to  its  feed,  and  playfully 
smells  and  rubs  its  little  one.  Now  the  watchful  savage,  keeping 
his  body  unmoved,  fixes  the  spear  first  in  the  throwing-stick,  and 
then  raises  his  arms  in  the  attitude  of  throwing,  from  which  they 
are  never  again  moved  until  the  kangaroo  dies  or  runs  away. 
His  spear  being  properly  secured,  he  advances  slowly  and  stealth- 
ily towards  his  prey,  no  part  moving  but  his  legs.  Whenever  the 
kangaroo  looks  round,  he  stands  motionless  in  the  position  he  is 
in  when  it  first  raises  its  head,  until  the  animal,  again  assured  of 
its  safety,  gives  a  skip  or  two  and  goes  on  feeding.  Again  the 
native  advances,  and  this  scene  is  repeated  many  times,  until  the 
whistling  spear  penetrates  the  devoted  animal.  Then  the  wood 
rings  with  shouts  ;  women  and  children  all  join  pell-mell  in  the 
chase.  The  kangaroo,  weak  from  loss  of  blood,  and  embarrassed 
by  the  long  spear  which  catches  in  the  brushwood  as  it  flies,  at 
length  turns  on  its  pursuers,  and,  to  secure  its  rear,  places  its 
back  against  a  tree,  preparing  at  the  same  time  to  rend  open  the 
breast  and  entrails  of  its  pursuer,  by  seizing  him  in  its  fore  paws, 
and  kicking  with  its  hind  legs  and  claws  ;  but  the  wily  native 
keeps  clear  of  so  murderous  an  embrace,  and  from  the  distance  of 
a  few  yards  throws  spears  into  its  breast,  until  the  exhausted 
animal  falls,  and  is  then  soon  despatched  ;  when,  with  the  assist- 
ance of  his  wives,  he  takes  its  fore  legs  over  his  left  shoulder,  and 
totters  with  his  burden  to  some  convenient  resting  place,  where 
they  can  enjoy  their  meal. 


EXPOSITION  140 

III.    THE  INFLUENCE  OF  CLIMATE  ON  MANNERS   AM) 

CUSTOMS i 

By  W.   M.    Davis 

The  customs  of  mankind  are  influenced  in  many  ways  1>\ 
climate.  Some  of  the  climatic  influences  are  direct,  as  with 
regard  to  clothing  and  shelter.  Some  influences  are  indirect,  as 
with  regard  to  food  supply,  which  in  turn  is  affected  by  the  dis- 
tribution of  plants  and  animals.  Climatic  influences  are  less 
apparent  on  civilized  people  than  on  savage  tribes ;  for  the 
former  have  developed  world-wide  commerce,  and  thus  gather 
supplies  from  all  parts  of  the  earth  ;  while  the  latter  know  little 
or  nothing  of  regions  away  from  their  own  home.  Two  examples 
are  given  in  the  following  paragraphs. 

The  equatorial  belt  of  Africa  is  in  large  part  a  densely  forested 
wilderness,  because  of  its  plentiful  rainfall.  Tall  trees  spread 
their  branches  aloft,  shading  the  ground  all  the  year  with  their 
heavy  foliage.  Vines  and  creepers  climb  the  trees  and  hang  from 
bough  to  bough  in  great  festoons,  and  the  shady  and  damp  ground 
is  covered  with  a  thick  growth  of  bushes  with  steins  and  branches 
so  closely  interlaced  that  it  is  almost  impossible  to  make  one's 
way  through  them  without  cutting  a  passage.  Even  the  wild  ani- 
mals of  the  forest  go  and  come  by  paths  that  they  keep  open  by 
frequent  passing.  Objects  near  at  hand  are  hidden  from  sight  ; 
the  explorer  cannot  tell  what  is  ahead  of  him  in  the  gloom  of 
the  forest  until  he  is  close  upon  it.  Vegetation  is  here  so  luxuri- 
ant that  it  is  a  burden  upon  the  people  who  live  amid  its  abun- 
dant growth. 

Some  of  the  savages  of  this  great  forest  are  Dwarfs,  from 
three  to  four  and  a  half  feet  in  height.  They  wear  little  clothing, 
for  the  air  about  them  is  always  warm.  They  do  not  try  to  make 
clearings  and  to  cultivate  fields,  but  search  out  the  more  open 
parts  of  the  forest  and  build  their  villages  where  the  undergrowth 
is  least  dense.  They  have  some  trade  with  other  tribes,  but  live 
chiefly  by  hunting  wild  game,  which  is  plentiful.  Although 
entirely  ignorant  of  many  simple  arts  practised  by  people  of 
more  open  countries,  the  Dwarfs  are  expert  in  all  the  ways  of 

i  From  "  Elementary  Physical  Geography  "  (Boston,  Qinn  >.V  ( lompany). 


150  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

forest  life.  They  can  travel  quickly  through  the  woods,  knowing 
all  the  paths  and  open  places.  They  protect  their  villages  from 
the  attack  of  neighboring  tribes  by  planting  sharpened  stakes  in 
the  paths  of  approach.  They  dig  pitfalls  in  the  narrow  forest 
paths,  covering  them  with  sticks  and  leaves,  and  in  this  way  cap- 
ture even  the  larger  wild  animals.  They  prepare  a  poison  from 
certain  plants  and  Up  their  spears  and  arrows  with  it.  In  spite 
of  their  small  size,  they  are  formidable  enemies  to  invaders  of 
their  forest  home. 

The  desolate  shores  of  Greenland  present  conditions  of  an 
entirely  different  kind.  Extreme  cold  prevails  there  during  the 
long  dark  winter,  and  most  of  the  land  is  covered  all  the  year 
round  with  ice  and  snow,  —  a  vast  cold  desert.  A  narrow  belt 
along  the  coast  is  free  from  snow  in  summer,  and  here  live  a  few 
tribes  of  Eskimos ;  but  the  ground  is  so  barren  that  they  get  little 
support  from  it.  The  only  treelike  plants  are  of  stunted  growth, 
seldom  over  two  or  three  feet  high.  The  herbage  consists  chiefly 
of  mosses  and  lichens,  which  grow  for  a  time  in  summer  when 
the  frozen  ground  is  thawed  for  a  few  inches  below  the  surface. 
A  small  supply  of  wood  comes  from  the  trunks  of  trees  that  are 
occasionally  drifted  by  ocean  currents  to  the  Arctic  shores  from 
warmer  regions;  but  there  is  so  little  of  it  that  many  articles 
which  might  be  made  of  wood  elsewhere  are  here  made  from  the 
bones  of  sea  animals. 

The  Eskimos  wear  heavy  fur  clothing.  They  travel  in  sleds 
drawn  by  dogs  over  the  snow-covered  land  or  the  frozen  sea.  They 
make  slender  canoes,  called  kayaks,  which  they  paddle  very  skil- 
fully when  hunting  seals  and  walruses.  Until  visited  by  Euro- 
peans and  Americans,  the  Eskimos  were  as  ignorant  of  the  rest 
of  the  world  as  were  the  African  Dwarfs  ;  yet  so  well  have  they 
learned  to  take  every  advantage  of  their  frigid  surroundings  that 
they  survive  where  men  from  a  more  civilized  nation,  unused  to 
living  in  so  barren  a  region,  might  perish. 

These  brief  accounts  of  the  Dwarfs  and  the  Eskimos  show 
very  clearly  that,  as  a  rule,  the  climate  and  the  other  local  fea- 
tures of  the  regions  in  which  men  live  exercise  a  strong  control 
over  their  manner  of  living.  The  Eskimos  know  nothing  of  for- 
ests, thickets,  and  pitfalls.  The  Dwarfs  know  nothing  of  snow 
and  ice,  sleds,  kayaks,  and  harpoons.  But  each  of  these  groups  of 
people  has  become  well  practised  in  certain  habits  and  customs 


EXPOSITION  151 

that  enable  them  to  secure  food,  shelter,  and  reasonable  safety  of 
life  ;  and  these  habits  and  customs  are  closely  related  to  the  sur- 
roundings in  which  they  have  been  acquired. 

IV.    THE  FERTILIZATION  OF  PLANTS  1 
By  Sir  John  Lubbock 

A  regular  flower,  such,  for  instance,  as  a  geranium  or  a  pink, 
consists  of  four  or  more  whorls  of  leaves,  more  or  less  modified : 
(1)  the  lowest  whorl  is  the  calyx,  and  the  separate  leaves  of  which 
it  is  composed,  which,  however,  are  sometimes  united  into  a  tube, 
are  called  sepals  ;  (2)  a  second  whorl,  the  corolla,  consisting  of 
colored  leaves  called  petals,  which,  however,  like  those  of  the 
calyx,  are  often  united  into  a  tube  ;  (3)  one  or  more  stamens, 
consisting  of  a  stalk  or  filament,  and  a  head  or  anther,  in  which 
the  pollen  is  produced  ;  and  (4)  a  pistil,  which  is  situated  in  the 
centre  of  the  flower,  and  at  the  base  of  which  is  the  ovary,  con- 
taining one  or  more  seeds. 

Almost  all  large  flowers  are  brightly  colored,  many  produce 
honey,  and  many  are  sweet-scented. 

What,  then,  is  the  use  and  purpose  of  this  complex  organization? 

It  is,  I  think,  well  established  that  the  main  object  of  the 
color,  scent,  and  honey  of  flowers  is  to  attract  insects,  which  are 
of  use  to  the  plant  in  carrying  the  pollen  from  flower  to  flower. 

In  many  species  the  pollen  is,  and  no  doubt  it  originally  was 
in  all,  carried  by  the  air.  In  these  cases  the  chance  against  any 
given  grain  of  pollen  reaching  the  pistil  of  another  flower  of  the 
same  species  is  of  course  very  great,  and  the  quantity  of  pollen 
required  is  therefore  immense. 

In  species  where  the  pollen  is  wind-borne,  as  in  most  of  our 
trees — firs, oaks,  beech, ash,  elm,  etc.,  and  many  herbaceous  plants, 
the  flowers  are  as  a  rule  small  and  inconspicuous,  greenish,  and 
without  either  scent  or  honey.  Moreover,  they  generally  flower 
early,  so  that  the  pollen  may  not  be  intercepted  by  the  leaves, 
but  may  have  abetter  chance  of  reaching  another  llower.  And 
they  produce  an  immense  quantity  of  pollen,  as  otherwise  there 
would  lie  little  chance  that  any  would  reach  the  female  flower. 
Every  one  must  have  noticed  the  clouds  of  pollen  produced  by  the 

1  From  "  The  I'cauties  of  Nature."    Copyright,  1892,  by  Macmillan  &  Co. 


152 


COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


Scotch  fir.  When,  on  the  contrary,  the  pollen  is  carried  by 
insects,  the  quantity  necessary  is  greatly  reduced.  Still  it  has 
been  calculated  that  a  peony  flower  produces  between  3,000,000 
and  4,000,000  pollen  grains  ;  in  the  dandelion,  which  is  more 
specialized,  the  number  is  reduced  to  about  250,000  ;  while  in 
such  a  flower  as  the  dead-nettle  it  is  still  smaller. 

The  honey  attracts  the  insects  ;  while  the  scent  and  color  help 
them  to  find  the  flowers,  the  scent  being  especially  useful  at  night, 
which  is  perhaps  the  reason  why  evening  flowers  are  so  sweet. 

It  is  to  insects,  then,  that  flowers  owe  their  beauty,  scent,  and 
sweetness.  Just  as  gardeners,  by  continual  selection,  have  added 
so  much  to  the  beauty  of  our  gardens,  so  to  the  unconscious 
action  of  insects  is  due  the  beauty,  scent,  and  sweetness  of  the 

flowers    of    our   woods   and 
fields. 

Let  us  now  apply  these 
views  to  a  few  common 
flowers.  Take,  for  instance, 
the  white  dead-nettle. 

The  corolla  of  this  beau- 
tiful and  familiar  flower 
consists  of  a  narrow  tube, 
somewhat  expanded  at  the 
upper  end  (Fig.  1),  where 
the  lower  lobe  forms  a  plat- 
form, on  each  side  of  which 
is  a  small  projecting  tooth  (Fig.  2,  m).  The  upper  portion  of  the 
corolla  is  an  arched  hood  (co),  under  which  lie  four  anthers  (a  a), 
in  pairs,  while  between  them,  and  projecting  somewhat  down- 
wards, is  the  pointed  pistil  (si)  ;  the  tube  at  the  lower  part  con- 
tains honey,  and  above  the  honey  is  a  row  of  hairs  running  round 
the  tube. 

Now,  why  has  the  flower  this  peculiar  form?  What  legulates 
the  lenoth  of  the  tube?  What  is  the  use  of  the  arch?  What 
lesson  do  the  little  teeth  teach  us  ?  What  advantage  is  the  honey 
to  the  flower?  Of  what  use  is  the  fringe  of  hairs?  Why  does 
the  stigma  project  beyond  the  anthers?  Why  is  the  corolla 
white,  while  the  rest  of  the  plant  is  green? 

The  honey  of  course  serves  to  attract  the  humble-bees  by  which 
the  flower  is  fertilized,  and  to  which  it  is  especially  adapted  ;  the 


Fig.  1 


Fig.  2 


EXPOSITION 


153 


white  color  makes  the  flower  more  conspicuous;  the  lower  lip 
forms  the  stage  on  which  the  bees  may  alight  ;  the  length  of  the 
tube  is  adapted  to  that  of  their  proboscis  ;  it  narrowness  and  the 

fringe  of  line  hairs  exclude  small  insects  which  might  rob 
the  flower  of  its  honey  without  performing  any  service  in  return; 
the  arched  upper  lip  protects  the  stamens  and  pistil,  and  prevents 
rain-drops  from  choking  up  the  tube  and  washing  away  the  honej  . 
The  little  teeth  are,  I  believe,  of  no  use  to  the  flower  in  its  pres- 
ent condition ;  they  are  the  last  relics  of  lobes  once  much  larger, 
and  still  remaining  so  in  some  allied  species,  but  which  in  the 
dead-nettle,  being  no  longer  of  any  use,  are  gradually  disappear- 
ing.   The  height  of  the  arch  has  reference  to  the  size  of  the  bee, 


Fig.  3 


Fig.  4 


Fig.  5 


being  just  so  much  above  the  alighting  stage  that  the  bee.  while 
sucking  the  honey,  rubs  its  back  against  the  hood  and  thus  comes 
in  contact  first  with  the  stigma  and  then  with  the  anthers,  the 
pollen-grains  from  which  adhere  to  the  hairs  on  the  bee's  back, 
and  are  Ihus  carried  off  to  the  next  flower  which  the  bee  visits, 
when  some  of  them  are  then  licked  off  by  the  viscid  tip  of  the 
st  igina. 

In  the  salvias,  the  common  blue  salvia  of  our  gardens,  for 
instance, — a  plant  allied  to  the  dead-nettle.  — the  flower  (Fig.  '■'>) 
is  Constructed  on  the  same  plan,  hut  the  arch  is  much  larger,  so 
that  the,  back  of  the  bee  does  no1  nearly  reach  it.  The  stamens, 
however,  have  undergone  ;t  remarkable  mollification.  Two  of 
them  have  become  small  ami  functionless.  In  the  other  two  the 
anther-  or  cells  producing  the  pollen,  which  in  most  flowers  form 


154  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

together  a  round  knob  or  head  at  the  top  of  the  stamen,  are  sep- 
arated by  a  long  arm,  which  plays  on  the  top  of  the  stamen  as  on 
a  hinge.  Of  these  two  arms  one  hangs  down  into  the  tube,  clos- 
ing the  passage,  while  the  other  lies  under  the  arched  upper  lip. 
When  the  bee  pushes  its  proboscis  down  the  tube  (Fig.  5),  it 
presses  the  lower  arm  to  one  side,  and  the  upper  arm  conse- 
quently descends,  tapping  the  bee  on  the  back,  and  dusting  it 
with  pollen.  When  the  flower  is  a  little  older,  the  pistil  (Fig-  3, p) 
has  elongated  so  that  the  stigma  (Fig.  4,  sty  touches  the  back  of 
t lie  bee  and  carries  off  some  of  the  pollen.  This  sounds  a  little 
complicated,  but  is  clear  enough  if  we  take  a  twig  or  stalk  of 
grass  and  push  it  down  the  tube,  when  one  arm  of  each  of  the 
two  larger  stamens  will  at  once  make  its  appearance.  It  is  one 
of  the  most  beautiful  pieces  of  plant  mechanism  which  I  know. 


V.    THE  LOCOMOTIVE  * 
By  W.  F.  M.  Goss 

The  boiler  and  engine  of  a  locomotive  are  similar  in  their 
general  character  to  the  boiler  and  engine  of  a  stationary  power- 
plant.  Each  exists  for  the  purpose  of  converting  into  work  the 
potential  energy  of  fuel.  There  are  differences  in  the  details  of 
mechanism,  and  in  the  conditions  under  which  work  is  performed, 
but  the  principles  underlying  action  are  the  same. 

As  compared  with  the  locomotive,  the  stationary  plant  has  an 
advantage  in  being  fixed  in  its  position.  It  may  be  so  arranged 
that  all  its  parts  are  accessible  to  attendants,  who  in  doing  their 
work  may  pass  freely  from  one  element  to  another,  and  any  detail 
which  is  better  when  made  large  can  be  given  such  dimensions  as 
will  ensure  its  efficient  and  otherwise  satisfactory  performance. 
In  many  cases  there  are  no  limiting  dimensions ;  the  plant  may 
be  built  as  long  and  as  wide  and  as  high  as  may  be  desired.  It  is 
possible,  therefore,  so  to  construct  the  engines,  boilers,  and  acces- 
sory apparatus  of  a  stationary  plant,  as  to  secure  any  desired  de- 
gree of  efficiency,  within  limits  which  are  prescribed  by  the  state  of 
the  art.    If  the  pulsating  sound  of  escaping  steam  is  objectionable, 

1  Slightly  simplified  (by  permission)  from  "  Locomotive  Sparks"  (New 
York,  John  Wiley  &  Sons,  1902). 


EXPOSITION  155 

it  may  be  entirely  eliminated  by  the  application  of  a  suitable 
exhaust-head  or  muffler.  If  the  presence  of  a  cloud  of  exhaust- 
steam  is  annoying,  it  may  be  entirely  suppressed  by  the  use  of  a 
condenser.  If  smoke  emerging  from  the  top  of  the  stack  becomes 
a  nuisance,  it  may  be  made  to  disappear  by  the  use  of  down-draft 
furnaces,  or  by  the  application  of  some  other  form  of  so-called 
smoke-consumer.  If  economy  in  the  use  of  fuel  is  an  important 
consideration,  small  and  overworked  boilers  may  give  way  to 
others  which  provide  a  more  liberal  allowance  of  heating-surface. 
The  degree  of  perfection  attained  in  any  or  all  of  these  particulars 
is  in  fact  a  matter  which  is  entirely  within  the  choice  of  the 
designer,  subject  only  to  such  limitations  of  cost  as  may  be 
imposed  by  business  considerations. 

In  passing  from  stationary  power-plants  to  moving  power- 
plants  in  the  form  of  locomotives,  the  designer  gives  up  his  free- 
dom of  choice  with  reference  to  many  matters  of  detail,  and 
finds  himself  confronted  with  the  necessity  of  having  his  appara- 
tus conform  to  certain  general  conditions.  The  work  which  his 
boiler  and  engine  are  to  do  must  be  made  to  appear  in  the  motion 
of  the  plant  itself  and  its  attached  train.  Hence  the  heat-energy 
of  the  fuel  must  be  transformed  into  work  by  as  direct  a  process 
as  is  practicable. 

The  stationary  plant  runs  at  a  fixed  speed  and  usually  at  a 
fairly  constant  load  :  the  locomotive  must  run  at  all  speeds  ;  it 
must  climb  hills,  pulling  slowly  and  hard,  and  it  must  roll  rapidly 
into  valleys,  holding  back  a  train  which  would  push  it  on  at  still 
higher  speeds. 

Important  elements  must  be  adapted  one  to  another,  and  there 
must  be  an  entire  omission  of  many  details  which  in  good  practice 
are  regarded  as  necessary  to  the  economical  working  of  a  stationary 
plant.  The  moving  parts  of  a  stationary  engine  work  in  a  sub- 
stantial frame,  v,  hick  in  turn  is  bolted  to  a  massive  foundation, 
while  the  frame  of  a  locomotive  is  suspended  by  springs  from 
axles  carried  by  wheels  which  are  supported  by  a  yielding  and 
uneven  track.  The  action  of  the  stationary  engine  can  be  one  of 
precision,  and  delicateand  precise  devices  may  be  embodied  in  its 
mechanism  which  are  not  at  all  admissible  in  the  less  rigid  struc- 
fcure  "I'  the  locomotive.  The  stationary  engine  is  protected  from 
tli^  weather  and  from  dust,  while  the  locomotive  must  give  no 
trouble  if  worked  in  rain  or  snow,  or  in  clouds  of  dust. 


156  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

The  designer  of  a  locomotive,  moreover,  is  forced  to  recognize 
that  the  machine  with  which  he  is  concerned  constitutes  but  one 
of  many  elements  which  go  to  make  up  the  material  property  of 
a  railroad.  The  width  between  the  wheels  is  prescribed  by  the 
gage  of  the  track,  and  the  length  of  the  wheel-base  hy  the  curva- 
ture of  track,  the  length  of  turn-tables,  and  the  dimensions  of  other 
facilities  at  the  terminals  of  the  road.  The  extreme  width  and 
height  of  the  machine  are  also  limited,  for  the  locomotive  must  pass 
by  station-platforms,  underneath  bridges,  and  through  tunnels. 

Despite  such  limiting  conditions  as  these,  the  locomotive  de- 
signer has  for  many  years  been  under  the  necessity  of  produc- 
ing locomotives  which  will  carry  greater  loads  and  move  at  higher 
speeds  than  those  which  have  preceded  them.  Locomotives  which 
could  carry  twenty  cars  have  given  way  to  newer  and  larger 
machines  which  are  capable  of  carrying  forty  cars,  and  trains 
which  used  to  be  pulled  at  a  speed  of  twenty-five  miles  an  hour 
must  now  be  carried  at  fifty  miles  an  hour. 

With  restraining  conditions  fixing  limits  which  are  absolute, 
and  acting  under  the  influence  of  a  growing  demand  for  increased 
power,  the  locomotive  designer  has  been  forced  to  regard  economy 
in  fuel  as  a  matter  of  secondary  importance.  The  same  is  true  of 
the  problems  of  reducing  noise  and  abating  smoke.  He  knows 
that  smoke  from  a  locomotive  can  be  suppressed,  but  he  also 
knows  that,  in  accomplishing  this,  the  firing  will  be  interfered 
with  and  the  power  of  the  locomotive  will  be  reduced.  There  is, 
in  fact,  no  serious  defect  in  the  working  of  the  modern  locomotive 
that  is  not  appreciated  by  the  designer.  He  allows  defects  to 
exist  because  all  efforts  to  overcome  them  appear  to  work  to  the 
disadvantage  of  more  important  characteristics  of  his  machine. 

The  achievements  of  the  locomotive  designer,  in  the  face  of  all 
these  difficulties,  are  illustrated  by  the  figure  on  page  157,  which 
shows  two  power-plants,  each  of  a  thousand  horse-power.  Both 
are  drawn  to  the  same  scale,  so  that  a  comparison  discloses  their 
relative  dimensions. 

The  drawings  tell  their  own  story.  Those  of  the  stationary 
plant  cover  an  area  of  paper  many  times  greater  than  that 
covered  by  the  drawings  of  the  locomotive,  and  yet  the  power- 
capabilities  of  the  two  plants  are  the  same.  Evidently  a  con- 
struction that  enables  the  power  of  the  smaller  apparatus  to 
equal  that  of  the  larger  must  be  unusually  compact  and  effective. 


^ 


1000    H.   P.   LOCOMOTIVE 


SCALE  OF  FEET 
0       6       10      15     20     25 


157 


158  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

IMPOKTANCE  OF  EXPOSITION 

Exposition  (that  is,  explanation) 1  is  the  commonest  form  of 
discourse.  One  can  hardly  answer  a  question  that  begins 
with  why  or  how  without  explaining.  We  compose  an 
exposition  whenever  we  direct  a  stranger  to  the  post  office, 
or  tell  a  friend  how  to  play  a  game.  A  teacher  expounds 
when  he  gives  instruction ;  a  pupil,  when  he  recites. 
Most  business  letters  are  to  some  degree  expository.  Skill 
in  exposition,  then,  —  or,  in  other  words,  the  ability  to 
explain  a  subject  clearly,  accurately,  and  with  effectiveness, — 
is  of  the  highest  importance  in  every  department  of  prac- 
tical affairs. 

Training  in  exposition  is  not  confined  to  the  writing  of 
essays.  Every  recitation  —  whether  in  history,  or  litera- 
ture, or  science  —  gives  an  opportunity  for  such  training. 
Whenever  you  recite,  it  is  your  business  to  explain  the 
subject  in  hand  as  well  as  you  can.  You  should  keep 
this  object  in  mind  when  you  study.  Do  not  merely 
learn  your  lesson  by  rote,  but  gather  knowledge  to  use  in 
an  exposition  of  your  own  which  shall  be  as  good  as  that 
in  the  text-book,  or  better.  Do  not  hesitate  to  improve 
on  the  book. 

The  following  directions  for  studying  will  be  found 
useful,  not  only  as  practice  in  exposition,  but  as  a  means 
of  learning  your  lessons  well  and  remembering  them. 

First  read  the  lesson  through.  Then  go  back  and  note  down 
the  more  important  topics  on  a  sheet  of  paper.  Study  each  topic 
in  order,  with  the  paper  before  you.  Then,  still  referring  to  the 
paper,  see  if  you  can  give  a  clear  and  accurate  explanation  of 

i  Exposition  and  explanation  are  synonymous  terms  and  practically 
interchangeable.  Exposition  (from  the  Latin  expositio,  "  a  setting  forth  ") 
has  in  English  a  cognate  verb  to  expound  (from  the  Latin  expono),  but 
this  is  a  somewhat  formal  word,  and  to  explain  is  the  commoner  term. 


ESSENTIALS   OF  EXPOSITION  159 

each  of  the  topics.    There  is  no  better  way  of  making  sure  that 
you  really  know  the  lesson. 

When  you  recite,  and  are  asked  to  explain  some  portion  of 
the  lesson,  the  teacher's  question  will  give  you  your  main  topic. 
Start  from  that,  then,  and  try  to  arrange  what  you  say  as  if  you 
were  constructing  a  paragraph.  Let  your  first  sentence  state 
what  you  are  going  to  do ;  then  develop  the  subject  carefully  as 
you  go  along,  and  try  to  end  with  a  sentence  that  shall  sum  up 
what  you  have  said. 

ESSENTIALS  OF  EXPOSITION 

The  first  requisite  for  a  good  exposition  is  the  selection 
of  a  definite  and  manageable  subject  Everything  that  has 
been  said  about  titles  on  pages  7  and  8  applies  with  pecul- 
iar force  to  exposition.  A  vague  and  general  subject  is 
almost  sure  to  result  in  a  hazy  and  rambling  treatment. 
For  brief  compositions,  limited  subjects  should  be  chosen. 
"  Physics  "  is  not  so  good  a  subject  as  "  The  Air-Pump  "  ; 
"  Ornithology,"  as  "  The  Habits  of  the  Chimney-Swallow  "  ; 
"  Local  Self-Government,"  as  "  Our  Town-Meeting  "  or  "  The 
City  Council "  ;  "  New  York  under  Dutch  Eule,"  as  "  Peter 
Stuyvesant "  ;  "  Shipbuilding,"  as  "  How  to  Rig  a  Catboat." 
The  larger  subjects,  to  be  sure,  are  perfectly  proper  for 
general  treatises  by  competent  specialists;  but  they  are 
too  extensive  for  brief  themes  by  students  who  are  learn- 
ing to  write. 

Whatever  the  subject,  an  exposition  should  include 
nothing  that  is  not  directly  to  the  point.  Digressions,  side- 
remarks,  and  everything  that  does  not  bear  upon  the 
matter  to  be  explained,  should  be  carefully  avoided.  In 
other  words,  an  exposition  should  observe  the  principle  of 
unity,  —  it  should  be  a  complete  and  consistent  whole.  A 
writer  who  wanders  away  from  the  subject,  —  who  does  not 
stick  to  his  text, —  can  never  explain  any  thing  satisfactorily. 


160  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

An  exposition  should  also  be  coherent,  —  that  is,  it  should 
"  hang  together."  Its  parts  should  not  only  be  clearly 
related  to  the  subject,  but  they  should  stand  in  a  manifest 
relation  to  each  other.  Coherence  is  largely  a  matter  of 
arrangement.  If  the  several  facts  that  have  to  be  men- 
tioned are  properly  grouped  and  classified  in  the  writer's 
mind,  their  relations  are  pretty  sure  to  come  out  distinctly 
in  his  essay.  Coherence  is  further  ensured  by  care  in 
making  transitions  (see  p.  177). 

Both  unity  and  coherence  are  well  illustrated,  in  a  simple 
type  of  exposition,  by  Professor  Davis's  "  Influence  of 
CHmate  on  Manners  and  Customs "  (p.  149). 

Every  fact  mentioned  bears  directly  upon  the  subject,  and  the 
arrangement  brings  out  the  relations  of  the  facts  beyond  the  pos- 
sibility of  mistake.  First,  the  subject  is  announced,  and  the 
general  principle  is  distinctly  stated.  Then  the  Dwarfs  and  the 
Eskimos  are  discussed,  as  contrasted  illustrations  of  the  principle. 
Finally,  the  concluding  paragraph  sums  up  what  has  been  said, 
and  thus  leaves  the  reader  with  a  clear  understanding  of  the  sub- 
ject that  has  been  explained. 

Five  brief  specimens  of  exposition,  each  consisting  of  a 
single  paragraph,  will  now  be  given  as  illustrations.  In 
the  first,  on  "  Forms  of  Government,"  we  have  exposition 
by  definition.  In  the  second,  the  meaning  of  the  term 
"  Behavior  "  is  brought  out  by  showing  the  varied  applica- 
tions of  the  word.  In  the  third,  on  "Public  Drinking 
Cups,"  a  principle  is  laid  down  and  reasons  for  it  are 
given.  In  the  fourth,  on  "  The  Fertility  of  the  Blue-Grass 
Country,"  the  cause  is  stated  and  its  effects  are  then 
explained.  In  the  fifth,  on  "  The  Human  Hand,"  we  have 
an  instance  of  expository  description.1 

i  On  the  difference  between  literary  and  expository  description  see 
pp.  96-97. 


ESSENTIALS  OF    EXPOSITION  161 

1.  There  are  three  great  divisions  under  which  governments, 
where  they  are  of  simple  and  unmixed  form,  may  be  classed,  accord- 
ing to  the  hands  in  which  the  supreme  power  is  lodged.  It  may  he 
vested  in  a  single  person,  or  it  may  be  vested  in  a  particular  class 
different  from  the  bulk  of  the  community,  or  it  may  be  vested 
in  the  community  at  large.  In  the  first  case  the  government  is 
called  a  Monarch;/,  from  the  Greek  words  signifying  the  rule  of  a 
single  person  ;  Despotism  (also  from  the  Greek  word  for  a  master) 
means  the  absolute  and  uncontrolled  power  of  one  master  ;  but  in 
ordinary  language  the  word  denotes  rather  the  abuse  of  Monarchy 
than  a  separate  form  of  it.  In  the  second  case  it  is  called  an  A  ristoc- 
racy,  from  the  Greek  word  signifying  the  power  or  prevalence  of 
the  best,  or  highest  classes  — literally  the  best  in  respect  of  virtue, 
but  practically  the  uppermost  in  point  of  authority.  Where  but 
a  few  of  this  class  — a  select  number  or  a  subordinate  body  —  have 
obtained  the  exclusive  control,  it  is  termed  an  Oligarchy,  that  is  to 
say,  the  government  of  a  few  ;  but  this  is  rather  the  abuse  of  the 
Aristocratic  form  than  a  separate  kind  of  government,  as  Despotism 
is  the  abuse  of  the  Monarchical  form.  In  the  third  case  it  is  called 
a  Democracy,  from  the  Greek  word  signifying  the  power  or  prev- 
alence of  the  people  ;  and  sometimes  a  Republic,  from  the  Latin 
words  meaning  the  Commonwealth  or  people's  interest,  although 
the  term  Republic  includes  also  Aristocracies.  —  Brougham.1 

2.  We  commonly  use  the  word  "  behavior "  with  a  wide  range  of 
meaning.  We  speak  of  the  behavior  of  troops  in  the  field,  of  the 
prisoner  at  the  bar,  of  a  dandy  in  a  ballroom.  But  the  chemist  and 
the  physicist  often  speak  of  the  behavior  of  atoms  and  molecules, 
or  that  of  a  gas  under  changing  conditions  of  temperature  and  pres- 
sure. The  geologist  tells  us  that  a  glacier  behaves  in  many  respects 
like  a  river,  and  discusses  how  the  crust  of  the  earth  behaves  under 
the  stresses  to  which  it  is  subjected.  Weatherwise  people  comment 
on  the  behavior  of  the  mercury  in  a  barometer  as  a  storm 
approaches.  Instances  of  a  similar  usage  need  not  be  multiplied. 
Frequently  employed  with  a  moral  significance,  I  he  word  is  at  least 
occasionally  used  in  a  wider  and  more  coin]  irehensive  sense.  When 
Mary,  the  nurse,  returns  with  the  little  Miss  Sin  it  lis  from  Master 
Brown's  birthday  party,  she  is  narrowly  questioned  as  to  their 
behavior;    but   meanwhile  their   father,   the   professor,   has    been 

i  From  "The  British  Constitution." 


162  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

discoursing  to  his  students  on  the  behavior  of  iron  filings  in  the 
magnetic  fluid  ;  and  his  son  Jack,  of  H.  M.  S.  Blunderer,  entertains 
his  elder  sisters  with  a  graphic  description  of  the  behavior  of  a 
first-class  battle-ship  in  a  heavy  sea.  —  Lloyd  Morgan.1 

3.  Public  drinking  cups  should  be  avoided  by  travellers, 
theatre-goers,  and  all  persons  in  parks  or  other  public  places. 
Few  sights  are  more  distressing  to  a  sanitarian  than  to  see  (on 
a  hot  day  in  a  crowded  railway  car)  men,  women,  and  children, 
of  all  ages,  sorts,  and  conditions,  clean  and  unclean,  sick  and  well, 
one  after  another  in  rapid  succession  applying  their  mouths  to 
the  one  public  drinking  cup.  If  the  student  will  once  carefully 
observe  for  himself  the  use  to  which  this  cup  is  put  during  even 
a  short  journey  under  such  conditions,  he  will  realize  that  every 
traveller  had  better  carry  his  own  drinking  cup,  or,  in  default  of 
this,  go  thirsty.  In  some  theatres,  between  the  acts,  trays  con- 
taining glasses  of  water  are  passed  to  patrons  in  their  seats.  Here 
also  the  lips  of  many  persons  touch  successively  the  same  glasses, 
and  one  who  is  wise  will  avoid  the  obvious  danger  involved  in 
using  one  of  these  glasses,  which  may  have  become  infected. 
Sanitary  drinking  fountains  in  which,  by  a  simple  device,  the 
obnoxious  common  drinking  cup  is  made  unnecessary,  are  now 
being  gradually  introduced  in  parks,  schools,  and  other  public 
places.  —  Hough  and  Sedgwick.2 

4.  What  gives  the  great  fertility  to  the  blue-grass  region  is  the 
old  limestone  rock,  laid  down  in  the  ancient  Silurian  areas,  which 
comes  to  the  surface  over  all  this  part  of  the  state  and  makes  the 
soil  by  its  disintegration.  The  earth  surface  seems  once  to  have 
bulged  up  here  like  a  great  bubble,  and  then  have  been  planed  or 
ground  off  by  the  elements.  This  wearing  away  process  removed 
all  the  more  recent  formations,  the  coal  beds  and  the  conglomerate 
or  other  rocks  beneath  them,  and  left  this  ancient  limestone 
exposed.  Its  continued  decay  keeps  up  the  fertility  of  the  soil. 
Wheat  and  corn  and  clover  are  rotated  for  fifty  years  upon  the 
same  fields  without  manure,  and  without  any  falling  off  in  their 
productiveness.  Where  the  soil  is  removed,  the  rock  presents  that 
rough,  honeycombed  appearance  which  surfaces  do  that  have  been 
worm-eaten  instead  of  worn.    The  tooth  which  has  gnawed,  and  is 

1  From  "  Animal  Behavior." 

2  From  "The  Human  Mechanism"  (Boston,  Ginn  &  Company). 


ARRANGEMENT  IN  EXPOSITION  163 

still  gnawing  it,  is  the  carbonic  acid  carried  into  the  earth  by  rain- 
water. Hence,  unlike  the  prairies  of  the  West,  the  fertility  of  this 
soil  perpetually  renews  itself.  —  Burroughs.1 

5.  The  external  form  of  the  human  hand  is  familiar  enough 
to  every  one.  It  consists  of  a  stout  wrist  followed  by  a  broad 
palm,  formed  of  flesh,  and  tendons,  and  skin,  binding  together 
four  bones,  and  dividing  into  four  long  and  flexible  digits,  or 
fingers,  each  of  which  bears  on  the  back  of  its  last  joint  a  broad 
and  flattened  nail.  The  longest  cleft  between  any  two  digits  is 
rather  less  than  half  as  long  as  the  hand.  From  the  outer  side 
of  the  base  of  the  palm  a  stout  digit  goes  off,  having  only  two 
joints  instead  of  three  ;  so  short,  that  it  only  reaches  to  a  little 
beyond  the  middle  of  the  first  joint  of  the  finger  next  it;  and 
further  remarkable  by  its  mobility,  in  consequence  of  which  it 
can  be  directed  outwards,  almost  at  a  right  angle  to  the  rest. 
This  digit  is  called  the  pollex,  or  thumb ;  and,  like  the  others,  it 
bears  a  flat  nail  upon  the  back  of  its  terminal  joint.  In  conse- 
quence of  the  proportions  and  mobility  of  the  thumb,  it  is  what 
is  termed  "opposable"  ;  in  other  words,  its  extremity  can,  with 
the  greatest  ease,  be  brought  into  contact  with  the  extremities  of 
any  of  the  fingers ;  a  property  upon  which  the  possibility  of  our 
carrying  into  effect  the  conceptions  of  the  mind  so  largely 
depends.  —  Huxley. 

ARRANGEMENT  IN  EXPOSITION 

The  business  of  exposition  is  to  make  a  subject  clear 
in  the  mind  of  the  reader  or  hearer.  A  familiar  example 
will  illustrate  this  process  of  clearing  up  a  subject. 

Suppose  you  have  to  explain  baseball  to  a  Frenchman  who 
has  never  seen  the  game  played  and  perhaps  has  never  heard  of 
it.  You  take  him  out  to  the  field  and  say  nothing.  What  are 
his  first  impressions?  He  sees  a  man  standing  over  a  flat  white 
stone  with  a  stick  in  his  hand.  Another  man  throws  a  ball  over 
the  stone.  A  third  person,  who  is  not  playing,  calls  out  somel  hing. 
The  first  player  throws  down  his  slick  and  gives  up  Ins  place  to 

1  From  "  Riverby  "  (Boston,  Houghton,  Miillin  &  Company). 


164  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

a  fourth  man  ;  or  else  he  hits  the  ball  and  runs  down  a  path  to  a 
place  where  a  fifth  man  is  standing,  or  perhaps  he  hits  the  ball 
but  does  not  run.  And  so  the  game  goes  on.  Of  course  the 
Frenchman  has  no  notion  of  what  it  is  all  about.  He  cannot 
even  guess  why  the  man  with  the  stick  sometimes  runs  down 
the  path  and  sometimes  remains  in  his  place  ;  or  why  presently 
the  men  in  one  kind  of  uniform  come  in  from  the  field  and  sit 
down  in  the  shade,  only  to  go  out  again  after  a  time.  When  he 
had  watched  three  or  four  innings,  he  would  no  doubt  be  utterly 
confused  by  all  these  meaningless  actions. 

Suppose,  now,  you  attempted  to  explain  the  game  by  taking 
up  each  incident  as  it  occurred.  You  would  only  make  matters 
worse.  To  give  the  Frenchman  a  clear  idea  of  the  subject,  you 
would  have  to  proceed  in  a  very  different  way.  You  would  begin 
by  telling  him  how  the  field  is  laid  out,  and  how  many  men  there 
are  on  a  side.  Then  you  would  come  to  the  positions  and  duties 
of  each  player.  These  you  would  take  up  in  order.  First  you 
would  explain  what  the  batter  has  to  do  ;  then,  perhaps,  you 
would  pass  on  to  the  pitcher  and  the  catcher ;  then  to  the  first 
baseman.  Next  you  might  inform  him  of  the  different  ways  in 
which  the  batter  can  get  to  first  base  (either  by  hitting  the  ball  or 
by  a  "  base  on  balls  ")  and  of  what  he  has  to  do  to  "  make  a  run." 

In  other  words,  instead  of  letting  the  Frenchman  try  to  under- 
stand all  the  acts  of  the  game  in  the  order  in  which  they  took 
place,  you  would  rearrange  them  entirely.  You  would  bring 
together  incidents  that  did  not  occur  in  the  same  innings,  and 
would  separate  other  incidents  that  came  close  together  in  the 
actual  game.  Thus,  when  you  had  finished,  the  Frenchman  would 
feel  that  all  the  confusing  facts  had  been  sorted  out  and  so  clearly 
arranged  that  he  could  now  see  how  the  game  went. 

This  is  the  secret  of  good  exposition.  Facts  and  ideas 
are  so  rearranged  that  related  things  are  brought  together 
in  groups,  and  one  group  is  considered  before  the  next  is 
taken  up. 

Turn  to  Dr.  Van  Dyke's  explanation  of  "  The  Smudge  " 
(p.  145),  and  observe  how  each  step  in  the  process  is  explained 
separately.    First  he  tells  the  purpose  of  the  smudge  ;  then,  how 


THE  OUTLINE  OF  AN   EXPOSITION  165 

you  may  fail  in  your  first  attempt  ;  then  he  directs  you  to  start 
your  fire  ;  then  he  informs  you  what  material  will  make  the 
thickest  smoke ;  then,  in  what  condition  the  fire  must  be;  and 
finally,  how  to  complete  the  smudge.  In  carrying  out  his  direc- 
tions, you  might  get  your  moss  and  rotten  bark  first,  or  you  might 
begin  by  starting  the  fire.  But,  in  order  to  explain  the  process 
clearly,  the  facts  must  be  arranged  as  if  the  separate  parts  of  the 
process  were  quite  distinct  and  always  took  place  in  a  fixed  order. 


THE  OUTLINE   OF  AX   EXPOSITION 

Before  you  begin  to  write  an  exposition  you  should 
make  an  outline  or  plan,  so  as  to  be  sure  that  the  facts 
which  you  have  collected  are  well  arranged  in  your 
own  mind. 

If  the  exposition  is  short,  a  very  simple  plan  will  do. 
Two  or  three  topics  (or  heads)  under  which  to  group  your 
material  will  probably  he  sufficient.  These  you  can  often 
frame  without  putting  pen  to  paper.  They  may  take  the 
form  of  sentences  or  may  consist  in  a  phrase,  or  even  a 
single  word ;  but,  when  they  are  arranged  in  a  clear  and 
logical  order,  they  give  you  a  plan  for  your  exposition. l 

If  the  exposition  is  longer  and  more  complicated,  further 
preparation  is  necessary.  You  wall  have  to  make  notes  of 
the  various  points,  and  to  arrange  the  notes,  before  you 
put  your  outline  together. 

Your  method  of  note-taking,  and  the  wray  in  which  you 
set  about  the  arrangement  of  your  material,  will  naturally 
vary  with  the  subject,  the  sources  of  information  at  your 
disposal,  and  other  circumstances. 

If  you  already  know  a  good  deal  about  the  subject,  so 
that  you  have  much  of  your  material  stored  up  in  your 

1  These  suggestions  apply  also  lo  a  sliort  oral  exposition,  such  as  a  reci- 
tation in  the  class. 


166  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

memory,  }tou  can  make  your  preliminary  notes  on  a  good- 
sized  sheet  of  paper.  First  jot  down  as  many  topics  as  you 
can  think  of  that  ought  to  go  into  your  exposition.  Then 
look  the  list  over,  and  insert  whatever  else  occurs  to  you. 
It  may  also  be  well  to  discuss  the  list  with  your  family 
or  with  a  classmate.  Be  sure  to  cover  everything  that  one 
might  reasonably  ask  you  about  the  subject,  but  do  not 
go  into  detail  too  minutely,  or  you  may  never  get  through. 
In  reading  over  your  list  of  topics,  you  will  probably  dis- 
cover that  there  are  some  of  them  with  which  you  are  not 
very  familiar.  These,  then,  are  the  points  to  which  you 
should  give  special  attention  in  collecting  further  material. 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  are  required  to  write  an 
exposition  on  a  subject  with  which  you  have  little  or  no 
acquaintance,  you  may  not  be  able  to  make  such  a  pre- 
liminary list  of  topics  at  the  outset.  In  that  case,  your 
first  business  is  to  gather  material,  from  books  or  elsewhere. 
Then,  after  you  have  completed  your  investigations  and 
feel  tolerably  well-informed  in  the  matter,  you  can  jot 
down  your  topics  in  the  way  described  in  the  preceding 
paragraph. 

If  your  exposition  is  to  be  pretty  long  and  must  include 
a  great  many  different  facts,  you  may  avail  yourself  of 
an  easy  mechanical  device  to  help  you  in  arranging  your 
material.  You  may  note  down  each  of  the  facts  —  as  you 
discover  it,  or  as  it  occurs  to  your  memory  —  on  a  separate 
card  or  slip  of  paper.1  Then  you  can  sort  the  slips  or 
cards  into  several  piles,  thus  bringing  together  those  facts 
which  seem  to  be  related.  Each  of  these  piles  will  then 
represent  a  single  topic,  and  you  can  draw  off  your  list  of 
topics  accordingly. 

i  An  old  blank-book  may  be  used  for  note-taking.  This  can  be  cut  up 
into  slips,  each  containing  a  separate  note. 


THE  OUTLINE   OF  AN   EXPOSITION  167 

The  various  topics  which  you  have  noted,  should  corre- 
spond to  the  natural  divisions  of  the  subject.  For  each  of 
these  divisions  you  have  now  a  group  of  related  facts  to  be 
used  in  your  exposition. 

When  you  have  noted  down  the  various  topics,  you 
must  arrange  them  in  a  proper  order  before  you  begin  your 
exposition.  For  a  good  exposition  sets  forth  the  facts  in 
the  order  in  which  they  are  most  easily  comprehended  by 
the  reader,  and  this  may  be  very  different  from  the  order 
in  which  the  writer  became  acquainted  with  them. 

A  scientific  investigator,  for  example,  often  makes  his  discov- 
eries in  an  accidental  way.  When  a  particular  fact  comes  under 
his  observation,  he  makes  a  memorandum  of  it;  then  another 
fact  attracts  his  attention,  and  he  makes  a  record  of  that,  —  and  so 
on.  Until  he  has  finished  his  experiments,  he  does  not  know  how 
the  different  facts  which  he  has  observed  are  connected  with  each 
other.  But,  after  he  has  mastered  the  whole  subject,  he  finds 
that  his  various  observations  and  discoveries  are  all  related,  and 
that,  when  properly  arranged,  they  fall  into  their  several  places 
in  accordance  with  their  natural  relations.  He  is  then  in  a  posi- 
tion to  explain  (or  expound)  the  subject,  and,  in  his  exposition  of 
it,  he  arranges  the  different  facts  in  the  order  in  which  they  will 
be  most  easily  understood  and  learned  by  his  readers,  —  not  in  the 
more  or  less  accidental  order  in  which  they  first  came  to  his  notice. 

In  collecting  your  material  for  an  exposition  you  follow  the 
method  of  the  scientific  investigator.  To  be  sure,  you  do  not 
make  experiments,  and  you  can  hardly  expect  to  discover  new 
facts ;  but  the  various  bits  of  information  that  you  find  in  the 
books  which  you  consult,  are,  it  is  probable,  new  to  you,  and  the 
order  in  which  you  discover  them  and  note  them  down  is  not 
the  order  in  which  you  should  arrange  them  in  writing  your 
exposition.  Like  the  man  of  science,  you  first  make  notes ;  then 
you  arrange  your  notes ;  and  finally  you  compose  your  exposition 
in  accordance  with  the  plan  that  you  have  decided  on. 

In  arranging  your  topics  to  make  an  outline,  you  should 
remember  that  most  of  them  will  belong  in  the  body  of 


168  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

the  essay.  Usual!}7,  however,  an  exposition  of  any  length 
will  require  an  introduction,  informing  the  reader  what  it 
is  that  you  undertake  to  explain.  It  may  also  need  a 
conclusion,  summing  up  the  main  points  that  you  have 
discussed,  or  otherwise  dismissing  the  subject.1  Your  out- 
line will,  then,  most  commonly  have  three  main  divisions, 
—  introduction,  body,  and  conclusion,  —  the  second  of  which 
will  be  much  longer  and  more  complicated  than  the 
other  two.  This  gives  you  the  ground  plan,  which  you 
should  always  keep  in  mind  in  sorting  and  arranging  your 
material. 

When  you  have  arranged  your  several  topics  in  a  clear 
and  simple  order,  in  accordance  with  your  best  judgment 
as  to  their  natural  succession,  the  main  divisions  of  your 
outline  are  ready.  Then  number  your  topics  and  write 
down  for  each  one  a  topic  phrase  or  topic  sentence  to 
indicate  the  contents. 

Next  you  should  take  up  each  topic  and  arrange  and 
rearrange  the  facts,  or  subtopics,  that  come  under  it,  until 
they  too  stand  in  a  natural  and  logical  order.  See  that 
each  subtopic  is  expressed  in  an  appropriate  sentence  or 
phrase,  and  mark  it  with  a  letter  (a,  b,  c,  and  so  on). 

Your  outline  is  now  complete.  It  should  be  in  the  shape 
of  a  table,  and  should  include,  in  skeleton  form,  everything 
that  you  mean  to  put  into  your  exposition. 

Two  outlines  are  given  below  as  specimens.  The  first 
is  an  outline  of  Mr.  F.  T.  Bullen's  paper  «  Of  Turtle  " ; 2 
the  second,  of  Burke's  exposition  of  "  The  Causes  of  the 
Love  of  Liberty  among  the  Americans."3 

1  Other  uses  of  the  introduction  and  conclusion  will  he  mentioned  when 
these  parts  of  the  exposition  are  taken  up  in  detail  (see  pp.  172  ff.,  174  ff.). 

2  From  his  "  Idylls  of  the  Sea  "  (New  York,  D.  Appleton  &  Company;. 

3  From  his  "  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America." 


THE   OUTLINE   OF  AN   EXPOSITION  169 

I 

Introduction 

I.  Discovery  of  the  excellence  of  turtle  as  food. 
II.  Its  use  as  food. 

a.  Turtle  is  a  luxury. 

b.  It  palls  upon  the  palate.     (Anecdote  in  illustration.) 

Body  of  the  Exposition 

I.  Land  tortoises. 

a.  Habitat  and  characteristics. 

b.  Varieties. 
II.  Sea  turtles. 

a.  Distinction  from  land  tortoises. 

b.  Habits  and  characteristics.     (Anecdote  in  illustration.) 

c.  Method  of  capture  on  shore. 

d.  Method  of  capture  at  sea. 

1.  Common  way. 

2.  Polynesian  way. 

3.  Chinese  and  African  way. 


Conclusion 


Uses  of  turtle. 

a.  For  shell. 

b.  For  food. 

II 

Introduction 

Love  of  freedom  is  the  predominating  feature  of  the  American 
character. 

Body  of  the  Exposition 

Causes  of  this  love  of  liberty. 
I.  English  descent. 

a.  The  Americans  derived  from    England   the  idea  that 

freedom  was  connected  with  taxing. 
h.  Your  method  of  governing  them  confirmed  them  in  this 
belief. 


170  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

IT.  Their  popular  form  of  government. 

III.  Their  religion.     (Northern  provinces.) 

IV.  Slavery.     (Southern  provinces.) 
V.  Education.     (Study  of  the  law.) 

VI.  Distance  from  England. 

Conclusion 

Summing  up  of  the  six  causes.    Strength  of  the  spirit  of  liberty. 


THE    KEY-SENTENCE 

In  drawing  up  the  plan  or  outline  for  an  exposition  you 
will  often  be  helped  by  setting  down,  in  a  single  sentence, 
the  gist  or  chief  principle  of  the  whole  subject  that  you 
are  to  explain.  This  key-sentence1  (as  it  is  often  called) 
will  be  a  kind  of  summary  of  the  whole  explanation  or 
essay.  It  may  take  the  form  of  a  definition.  Thus,  if  you 
are  about  to  write  an  exposition  of  football,  your  sentence 
may  run  as  follows  :  — 

Football  is  a  game  in  which  two  teams  of  eleven  men  each 
attempt  by  force  and  strategy  to  carry  a  ball  to  one  end  or  the 
other  of  a  field. 

Under  this  general  statement  you  can  bring  whatever  you 
have  to  say  in  your  exposition. 

So,  again,  a  steam-engine  has  been  defined  as  "  an  apparatus  for 
doing  work  by  means  of  heat  applied  to  water."  Under  that 
summary  statement  you  can  bring  anything  that  is  necessary  to 
explain  the  working  of  the  most  complicated  engine. 

The  key-sentence  of  Professor  Davis's  exposition  (p.  149)  is 
"  The  customs  of  mankind  are  influenced  in  many  ways  by 
climate." 

1  It  may  be  compared  to  the  sentence  which  summarizes  a  topic  (p.  168), 
—  the  topic  sentence,  as  it  is  termed. 


the  key-sentence  171 

The  key  to  Bacon's  essay  "  Of  Building  "  is  given  in  the  open- 
ing sentence:  "Houses  are  built  to  live  in,  and  not  to  look  on; 
therefore  let  use  be  preferred  before  uniformity,  except  when 
both  may  be  had."  The  substance  of  his  essay  "  Of  Judicature  " 
is  contained  in  the  sentence  :  "  The  office  of  judges  may  have  a 
reference  unto  the  parties  that  sue,  unto  the  advocates  that  plead, 
unto  clerks  and  ministers  of  justice  underneath  them,  and  to  the 
sovereign  or  state  above  them." 

Sir  John  Lubbock's  "  Fertilization  of  Plants"  (p.  151)  maybe 
summed  up  in  the  sentence,  "  The  purpose  of  the  complex  organ- 
ization of  flowers  is  to  attract  insects  which  will  carry  the  pollen 
from  flower  to  flower."  The  idea  contained  in  this  sentence  deter- 
mines the  structure  and  the  limits  of  the  whole  exposition. 

Professor  Goss's  explanation  of  "The  Locomotive"  (p.  154) 
may  be  summed  up  in  the  sentence,  "  A  locomotive  resembles  a 
stationary  power-plant  in  principle,  but  has  to  be  efficient  under 
peculiar  restraining  conditions." 

If  you  were  to  explain  the  production  of  cotton,  the  key- 
sentence  might  be,  "  The  object  of  the  cultivation  is  to  produce 
the  largest  possible  amount  of  clean  long-fibred  cotton."  The 
topics  might  fall  into  such  groups  as  the  preparation  of  the 
ground,  the  sowing  of  the  seed,  the  cultivation  of  the  crop, 
the  picking,  the  ginning  and  baling,  with  perhaps  a  conclusion 
on  the  uses  of  cotton. 

The  advantage  of  finding  a  good  key-sentence  is  two- 
fold :  it  makes  your  thoughts  more  clear  and  compact,  so 
that  you  are  more  likely  to  stick  to  the  subject,  and  it 
helps  you  to  reduce  a  confused  mass  of  topics  to  intelli- 
gible order.  If  you  cannot  devise  such  a  sentence  before 
drawing  up.  your  outline,  you  should  try  to  do  so  after- 
wards, before  you  actually  begin  your  exposition.  It  may 
enable  you  to  improve  the  outline  that  you  have  prepared, 
and  it  will  certainly  assist  you  in  writing  your  essay. 
Sometimes,  indeed,  it  will  serve  as  the  opening  sentence. 

The  key-sentence  should  ordinarily  be  written  at  the 
head  of  the  outline. 


172  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

THE  INTRODUCTION  IN  EXPOSITIONS 

Your  plan,  or  outline,  is  now  finished.  It  begins  with 
the  key-sentence  in  which  you  have  summed  up  or  defined 
the  subject.  Under  the  key-sentence  you  have  written  a 
list  of  well-arranged  topics,  and  under  each  topic  you  have 
written,  in  proper  order,  a  number  of  details  which  must 
be  disposed  of  before  the  next  topic  is  taken  up.  You 
are  now  ready  to  begin  the  actual  writing  of  your  expo- 
sition, and  the  outline  will  guide  you  in  composing  the 
whole  essay. 

Most  expositions  require  an  introductory  paragraph  of 
some  kind,  containing  a  concise  and  definite  statement  of 
what  you  mean  to  explain,  with  a  definition  if  one  is 
needed.  The  summary  which  you  have  already  constructed 
in  a  single  sentence  will  help  you  here.  Sometimes  you 
will  be  able  to  use  it  as  it  stands,  as  in  Professor  Davis's 
exposition  (p.  149).  Or  it  may  be  expanded  and  broken 
up  into  two  or  three  sentences. 

The  introduction  is  also  the  place  for  any  preliminary 
remarks  that  you  desire  to  make.    These  may  include  :  — 

1.  Your  reasons  for  undertaking  the  exposition,  if  these  affect 
either  the  selection  of  your  material  or  its  arrangement,  or  if  there 
is  any  other  ground  for  giving  them. 

2.  Mention  of  the  audience  to  whom  the  exposition  is  addressed 
or  for  whom  it  is  intended,  in  case  the  character  of  the  audience 
forces  you  to  treat  the  subject  in  a  peculiar  or  unexpected  way. 

3.  A  statement  of  the  order  in  which  you  purpose  to  take  up 
the  several  parts  of  the  subject. 

Emerson  begins  his  essay  on  "Character"  with  a  paragraph 
showing,  by  examples,  what  we  mean  by  this  term  ;  his  essay 
on  "Compensation,"  with  an  account  of  how  he  came  to  write 
it ;  his  essay  on  "Nature,"  with  a  description  of  a  day  in  Indian 
summer. 


THE  INTRODUCTION   IN   EXPOSITIONS         173 

In  a  book,  the  first  chapter  often  serves  as  the  introduc- 
tion. Thus  Professor  Goss's  explanation  of  the  locomotive 
(p.  154)  is  Chapter  I  of  Ms  book  on  "  Locomotive  Sparks." 

Four  specimens  of  introductory  paragraphs  are  given 
below.  The  first,  from  Addison's  essay  on  "  Exercise,"  is 
a  short  definition ;  the  second,  from  his  essay  on  "  The 
Fairy  Way  of  Writing,"  is  more  elaborate,  but  still  simple 
and  brief ;  the  third,  from  Huxley's  paper  "  On  the  Natu- 
ral History  of  the  Manlike  Apes,"  is  intended  to  rouse 
the  reader's  interest  and  to  lead  up  to  the  subject;  the 
fourth,  from  the  first  chapter  of  Mr.  Long's  "  School  of 
the  Woods,"  introduces  and  illustrates  the  subject  by 
telling  a  story. 

1.  Bodily  labor  is  of  two  kinds,  either  that  which  a  man  sub- 
mits to  for  his  livelihood,  or  that  which  he  undergoes  for  his 
pleasure.  The  latter  of  them  generally  changes  the  name  of 
labor  for  that  of  exercise,  but  differs  only  from  ordinary  labor 
as  it  rises  from  another  motive.  —  Addison. 

2.  There  is  a  kind  of  writing  wherein  the  poet  quite  loses  sight 
of  nature,  and  entertains  his  reader's  imagination  with  the  char- 
acters and  actions  of  such  persons  as  have,  many  of  them,  no 
existence  but  what  he  bestows  on  them.  Such  are  fairies,  witches, 
magicians,  demons,  and  departed  spirits.  This  Mr.  Dryden  calls 
"the  fairy  way  of  writing,"  which  is,  indeed,  more  difficult  than 
any  other  that  depends  on  the  poet's  fancy,  because  he  has  no 
pattern  to  follow  in  it,  and  must  work  altogether  out  of  his 
own  imagination.  —  Addison. 

3.  Ancient  traditions,  when  tested  by  the  severe  processes  of 
modern  investigation,  commonly  enough  fade  away  into  mere 
dreams;  but  it  is  singular  how  often  the  dream  turns  out  to  have 
been  a  half-waking  one,  presaging  a  reality.  Ovid  foreshadowed 
the  discoveries  of  the  geologist;  the  Atlantis  was  an  imagination, 
but  Columbus  found  a  western  world  ;  and,  though  the  quaint 
forms  of  centaurs  and  satyrs  have  an  existenc lly  in  the  realms 

of  art,  creatures  approaching  man  more  nearly  than  theyin  essen- 
tial structure,  and  yet  as  thoroughly  brutal  as  the  goat's  or  horse's 


174  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

half  of  the  mythical  compound,  are  now  not  only  known,  but 
notorious.  —  Huxley. 

4.  Many  years  ago  the  writer  saw,  for  the  second  time,  a 
mother  otter  teach  her  unsuspecting  little  ones  to  swim  by  carry- 
ing them  on  her  back  into  the  water,  as  if  for  a  frolic,  and  then 
diving  from  under  them  before  they  realized  what  she  was  about. 
As  they  struggled  wildly  in  the  unknown  element,  she  rose  near 
them  and  began  to  help  and  encourage  them  on  their  erratic  way 
back  to  the  bank.  When  they  reached  it  at  last,  they  scrambled 
out,  whimpered,  shook  themselves,  looked  at  the  river  fearfully, 
then  glided  into  their  den.  Later  they  reappeared  cautiously ;  but 
no  amount  of  gentle  persuasion  on  the  mother's  part  could  induce 
them  to  try  for  themselves  another  plunge  into  the  water  ;  nor, 
spite  of  her  coaxing  and  playful  rolling  about  in  the  dry  leaves, 
would  they  climb  again  upon  her  back  that  day,  as  I  had  seen 
them  and  other  young  otters  do,  twenty  times  before,  without 
hesitation.  —  William  J.  Long. 


THE  CONCLUSION  IN  EXPOSITIONS 

When  you  have  set  forth  in  their  due  order  the  differ- 
ent topics  of  your  exposition,  you  seem  to  have  come  to 
the  end.  To  stop  abruptly,  however,  may  confuse  the 
reader.  It  is  usually  better  to  clinch  his  understanding 
of  the  subject  by  means  of  a  short  conclusion. 

This  conclusion  should  ordinarily  sum  up  what  has 
preceded.  It  should  bring  the  results  together  in  a  con- 
densed form,  so  that  they  may  be  grasped  by  a  single 
effort  of  the  mind.  A  bare  enumeration  of  the  several  topics 
does  not  make  a  good  conclusion.  What  is  needed  is  a  con- 
cise statement  of  the  sum  and  substance  of  the  essay. 

Here,  as  everywhere,  excessive  formality  is  to  be  avoided. 
The  conclusion  should  not  seem  to  be  added,  or  tacked 
on ;  nor  should  it  sound  like  a  mere  finis,  —  a  notice 
that  the  end  has  come :  it  should  illuminate  the  whole 
subject,  so  as  to  be  worth  reading  for  its  own  sake. 


THE  CONCLUSION   IN   EXPOSITIONS  175 

Thus  Addison  ends  his  essay  on  "  The  Importance  of 
Exercise"  with  a  brief  paragraph  which  brings  the  whole 
subject  before  us  in  an  impressive  way :  — 

To  conclude,  as  I  am  a  compound  of  soul  and  body,  I  consider 
myself  as  obliged  to  a  double  scheme  of  duties;  and  I  think  I 
have  not  fulfilled  the  business  of  the  day,  when  I  do  not  thus 
employ  the  one  in  labor  and  exercise,  as  well  as  the  other  in  study 
and  contemplation. 

Macaulay  concludes  his  essay  on  Boswell's  "  Life  of 
Johnson "  with  the  following  paragraph,  which  follows 
the  short  description  quoted  on  p.  117:  — 

What  a  singular  destiny  has  been  that  of  this  remarkable  man ! 
To  be  regarded  in  his  own  age  as  a  classic,  and  in  ours  as  a  com- 
panion — ■  to  receive  from  his  contemporaries  that  full  homage 
which  men  of  genius  have  in  general  received  only  from  poster- 
ity—  to  be  more  intimately  known  to  posterity  than  other  men 
are  known  to  their  contemporaries  !  That  kind  of  fame  which 
is  commonly  the  most  transient,  is,  in  his  case,  the  most  durable. 
The  reputation  of  those  writings  which  he  probably  expected  to 
be  immortal,  is  every  day  fading  ;  while  those  peculiarities  of 
manner,  and  that  careless  table-talk,  the  memory  of  which,  he 
probably  thought,  would  die  with  him,  are  likely  to  be  remem- 
bered as  long  as  the  English  language  is  spoken  in  any  quarter 
of  the  globe. 

In  these  words  Macaulay  sums  up  all  that  is  most  strik- 
ing in  the  impression  made  by  the  book  he  has  been 
discussing. 

Sometimes  the  conclusion  refers  back  to  the  introduction, 
reminding  the  reader  of  what  the  writer  set  out  to  do 
and  showing  Unit  he  has  fulfilled  his  promise.  Thus 
Mr.  F.  T.  Bullen,  who  introduces  his  paper  on  "Devil- 
fish"1   by    remarking    that    "primitive   peoples"    ascribe 

i  In  "  Mvlls  of  the  Sea"  (New  York,  7).  Appleton  &  Company). 


176  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

anything  uncanny  to  the  devil,  closes  with  the  following 
brief  paragraph :  — 

There  are,  of  course,  many  other  marine  monstrosities  to 
which  with  more  or  less  show  of  reason  the  satanic  epithet  has 
been  applied;  but  they  are  very  little  known  or  noticed,  except 
within  certain  narrow  limits.  Probably  enough  has  been  said  to 
justify  simple  savages,  and  almost  equally  simple-minded  seamen, 
in  bestowing  upon  the  creatures  of  their  dread  a  name  which  to 
them  embodies  all  they  are  able  to  conceive  of  pitiless  cruelty, 
unquenchable  ferocity,  and  unmatchable  cunning. 

In  like  manner  Ruskin  closes  the  first  lecture  in  his 
"  Sesame  and  Lilies  "  with  the  words,  "  that  old  enchanted 
Arabian  grain,  the  Sesame,  which  opens  doors,  —  doors 
not  of  robbers'  but  of  Kings'  Treasuries."  These  words 
refer  back  to  the  introduction,  where  the  title  of  the 
lecture  ("  Of  Kings'  Treasuries  ")  has  been  explained. 

Still  another  use  for  the  conclusion  is  to  make  an  appli- 
cation of  what  has  been  written. 

Emerson  closes  his  essay  on  "  Character  "  with  a  fine  paragraph 
of  definite  moral  application  beginning,  "  If  we  cannot  attain  at  a 
bound  to  these  grandeurs,  at  least  let  us  do  them  homage."  His 
essay  on  "  Self-Reliance  "  ends  with  an  exhortation  to  his  readers 
to  practise  the  virtue  that  he  has  been  expounding  :  "  Nothing 
can  bring  you  peace  but  yourself.  Nothing  can  bring  you  peace 
but  the  triumph  of  principles." 

One  should  take  care,  however,  not  to  end  with  a  truism 
or  a  commonplace  bit  of  moral  sentiment.  It  is  better  to 
stop  short  than  to  make  "  a  lame  and  impotent  conclusion." 
In  an  essay  of  moderate  length,  a  single  paragraph  will 
suffice  for  the  concluding  summary  or  -  application.  In  a 
book,  the  last  chapter  often  serves  as  a  conclusion.  What- 
ever the  length  or  nature  of  the  conclusion,  it  should  really 
bring  the  book  or  essay  to  an  end.  We  should  not  broach  a 
fresh  subject  in  the  closing  chapter  or  paragraph. 


TRANSITION  IN  EXPOSITION  177 

TRANSITION  IN  EXPOSITION 

"When  you  are  started  on  the  actual  writing  of  your 
exposition,  how  can  you  be  sure  that  the  reader  will 
follow  you  and  see  all  the  facts,  and  their  connections,  in 
just  the  way  you  intend  ?  He  will  not  have  before  him 
the  plan  which  you  are  using.  All  that  he  has  to  guide 
Mm  is  what  you  have  said  in  your  introduction.  How 
can  you  prevent  him  from  losing  the  thread  ? 

The  surest  way  is  to  give  the  reader  notice  of  each 
new  step  in  the  explanation.  This  notice  comes  natu- 
rally in  the  transition  from  paragraph  to  paragraph.1  It  may 
be  given  by  a  single  word  like  however  or  moreover ;  by  a 
phrase  like  in  the  meanwhile,  on  the  other  hand,  or  in  the 
second  place  ;  or  sometimes  by  a  complete  sentence,  when 
the  connection  is  not  immediately  obvious,  or  else  for  any 
reason  must  be  made  especially  clear.  In  every  case,  the 
notice  should  be  so  distinct  that  the  reader  cannot  miss 
it.  He  should  not  be  allowed  to  pass  from  one  step  in 
the  explanation  to  another  without  being  aware  of  his 
progress. 

Burke,  in  his  exposition  of  the  reasons  why  the  Ameri- 
can colonists  love  liberty,2  treats  of  six  causes  in  as  many 
paragraphs,  and  sums  up  in  a  seventh.  Each  paragraph 
begins  with  a  sentence  indicating  the  transition:  — 

1.  First,  the  people  of  the  colonies  are  the  descendants  of 
Englishmen. 

2.  They  were  further  confirmed  in  this  pleasing  error  [i.e.  the 
belief  that  they  had  the  rights  of  Englishmen]  by  the  form  of 
their  provincial  legislative  assemblies. 

3.  If  anything  were  wanting  to  this  necessary  operation  of  the 
form  of  government,  religion  would  have  given  it  a  complete  effect. 

1  For  a  further  study  of  methods  of  transition,  see  pp.  285  fif. 

2  In  his  "Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America." 


178  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

4.  Sir,  I  can  perceive  by  their  manner  that  some  gentlemen 
object  to  the  latitude  of  this  description,  because  in  the  southern 
colonies  the  Church  of  England  forms  a  large  body  and  has  a 
regular  establishment. 

5.  Permit  me,  sir,  to  add  another  circumstance  in  our  colonies, 
which  contributes  no  mean  part  towards  the  growth  and  effect 
of  this  untractable  spirit :  I  mean,  their  education. 

6.  The  last  cause  of  this  disobedient  spirit  in  the  colonies  is 
hardly  less  powerful  than  the  rest. 

7.  Then,  sir,  from  these  six  capital  sources — . 

The  effect  of  Burke's  care  for  transition  is  to  bind  his 
exposition  so  firmly  together  that  the  six  causes,  though 
kept  perfectly  distinct  in  the  reader's  mind,  can  be  com- 
prehended almost  as  easily  as  if  there  were  only  one. 

It  is  often  of  great  assistance  to  the  reader  to  begin  a 
new  paragraph  with  some  reference  to  what  immediately 
precedes.  Of  the  sentences  just  quoted  from  Burke,  all 
after  the  first  contain  more  or  less  distinct  references  to 
the  preceding  paragraph. 

Professor  Goss  (p.  155)  begins  one  paragraph  with  "  In  pass- 
ing from  stationary  power-plants  to  moving  power-plants  "  and 
another  with  "  Despite  such  limiting  conditions." 

Lubbock  (p.  151)  begins  some  of  his  paragraphs  as  follows: 
"  In  species  where  the  pollen  is  wind-borne  "  ;  "  Now,  why  has 
the  flower  this  peculiar  form  ?  "  He  also  employs  paragraphs  of 
a  single  sentence  or  of  two  sentences  to  emphasize  transition  : 
as,  —  "  What,  then,  is  the  use  and  purpose  of  this  complex  organ- 
ization ?  "  and  "  Let  us  now  apply  these  views  to  a  few  common 
flowers.  Take,  for  instance,  the  white  dead-nettle."  In  each  case 
the  reference  knits  the  explanation  more  closely  together,  and 
makes  it  easier  to  keep  all  the  parts  in  mind  at  the  same  time.1 

Remember  that  the  sense  of  clear  arrangement  which  a 
good  exposition  gives  the  reader  is  dependent  on  bringing 
related  facts  together  into  groups,  and   that   ordinarily 

1  For  other  examples,  see  pp.  286-288. 


COHERENCE  IN   EXPOSITION  179 

these  groups  are  indicated  by  paragraphs.  As  you  pass 
to  each  new  paragraph,  then,  be  sure  that  your  reader  is 
aware  not  only  of  the  transition,  but  also  of  the  nature  of 
the  new  group  of  facts,  and  of  its  connection  with  what 
has  gone  before. 

Few  devices  do  more  to  make  an  exposition  clear  and 
agreeable  reading  than  this  distinctness  in  the  transition 
from  paragraph  to  paragraph.  On  the  other  hand,  if  the 
transition  is  indistinct  and  vague,  the  exposition,  though 
perfectly  clear  in  all  its  parts,  may  be  difficult  and  tiresome 
to  follow. 

Note.  —  What  has  heen  said  of  the  transition  from  paragraph  to  para- 
graph applies  also,  on  a  larger  scale,  to  the  transition  from  one  group  of 
paragraphs  to  another.  Here  a  whole  paragraph  of  a  transitional  charac- 
ter may  be  needed  to  give  notice  that  a  new  topic  is  now  to  be  taken  up 
(see  pp.  292-293) . 


COHEKENCE  IN  EXPOSITION 

Coherence  in  exposition  depends  largely,  as  we  have  seen 
(p.  160),  on  skilful  arrangement  of  material.  Such  arrange- 
ment with  proper  care  for  introduction,  transition,  and 
conclusion  binds  an  essay  together  into  the  expression  of 
a  single,  logical  process  of  thought.  Incoherent  writing 
may  sometimes  come  from  an  exact  and  sustained  thinker ; 
but  coherent  writing  can  come  from  such  a  thinker  only. 
When,  therefore,  a  writer  begins  and  ends  abruptly  and 
jumps  from  one  topic  to  another,  we  are  apt  to  doubt  Ins 
competence  to  deal  with  his  subject.  On  the  other  hand, 
the  firm  and  coherent  structure  which  we  observe  in  such 
authors  as  Burke,  Macaulay,  and  Newman  makes  us  feel 
instinctively  that  they  are  clear  and  powerful  thinkers 
who  have  mastered  their  subjects.    Accordingly,  we  listen 


180  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

respectfully  to  what  they  have  to  say  and  are  ready  to 
allow  due  weight  to  their  opinions. 

A  good  example  of  well-constructed  exposition  may  be 
seen  in  Carlyle's  discussion  of  the  character  of  Burns.1 

Carlyle  begins  by  explaining  why,  as  he  thinks,  the  disasters 
of  Burns's  life  were  not  due  to  unfortunate  circumstances,  to  lack 
of  patronage,  or  to  the  world's  unkindness.  He  then  asks  himself 
where  the  responsibility  does  actually  lie,  and  replies :  "  With 
himself ;  it  is  his  inward,  not  his  outward  misfortunes  that  bring 
him  to  the  dust."  "  The  error  of  Burns,"  he  continues,  "was  the 
want  of  unity  in  his  purposes,  of  consistency  in  his  aims."  The 
rest  of  the  essay  is  a  clear  and  forcible  exposition  of  this  text.  In 
concluding,  Carlyle  warns  the  reader  against  harsh  condemnation 
and  justifies  that  "pitying  admiration"  with  which  Burns  is 
regarded  by  all  men  of  right  feeling. 


EXAMPLES  IN  EXPOSITION 

The  use  of  examples  will  often  help  to  make  an  exposi- 
tion clear  and  vivid.  An  apt  example  may  fix  the  sense 
of  a  word,  or  enforce  a  general  principle,  more  effectually 
than  a  page  of  abstract  exposition.  Thus  Dr.  John  Brown, 
the  author  of  "  Rab  and  his  Friends,"  in  a  paper  on  "  Pres- 
ence of  Mind,"  uses  a  number  of  anecdotes  to  explain 
his  meaning  and  emphasize  the  importance  of  the  quality 
he  is  discussing.     Here  is  one  of  his  examples :  — 

A  lady  was  in  front  of  her  lawn  with  her  children,  when  a 
mad  dog  made  his  appearance,  pursued  by  the  peasants.  What 
did  she  do?  What  would  you  have  done?  Shut  your  eyes  and 
think.  She  went  straight  to  the  dog,  received  its  head  in  her  thick 
stuff  gown,  between  her  knees,  and,  muffling  it  up,  held  it  with 
all  her  might  till  the  men  came  up.  No  one  was  hurt.  Of  course, 
she  fainted  after  it  was  all  right. 

i  In  the  last  fourteen  paragraphs  of  his  "  Essay  on  Burns." 


EXAMPLES  IN   EXPOSITION  181 

Macaulay,  in  explaining  the  naive  way  in  which 
Herodotus  wrote  history,  gives  an  imaginary  example 
from  common  life  :  — 

The  faults  of  Herodotus  are  the  faults  of  a  simple  and  imagina- 
tive mind.  Children  and  servants  are  remarkably  Herodotean 
in  their  style  of  narration.  Their  says  he's  and  says  she's  are 
proverbial.  Every  person  who  has  had  to  settle  their  disputes 
knows  that,  even  when  they  have  no  intention  to  deceive,  their 
reports  of  conversation  always  require  to  be  carefully  sifted.  If 
an  educated  man  were  giving  an  account  of  the  late  change  of 
administration,  he  would  say,  "  Lord  Goderich  resigned,  and  the 
king  in  consequence  sent  for  the  Duke  of  Wellington."  A  porter 
tells  the  story  as  if  he  had  been  hidden  behind  curtains  of  the 
royal  bed  at  Windsor  :  "  So  Lord  Goderich  says,  <  I  cannot  manage 
this  business  ;  I  must  go  out.'  So  the  king  says,  says  he,  'Well, 
then,  I  must  send  for  the  Duke  of  Wellington,  that 's  all.'  "  This 
is  the  very  manner  of  the  father  of  history.  —  Macaulay. 

Emerson  begins  his  essay  on  "  Character  "  with  a  paragraph 
showing,  by  several  examples,  what  he  means  by  this  term. 
Note  the  numerous  examples  of  courteous  kindness  in  little 
things  which  Newman  uses  in  his  "  Definition  of  a  Gentleman." 
Bacon's  "  Essays  "  are  full  of  illustrative  examples,  briefly  and 
pithily  phrased. 

In  the  explanation  of  a  process,  and  in  scientific  expo- 
sition in  general,  examples  are  almost  always  necessary. 

Grey  writes  his  exposition  of  an  "Australian  Kangaroo 
Hunt"  (p.  147)  as  if  he  were  describing  a  single  instance  of 
such  a  hunt.  Lubbock  drives  home  his  exposition  of  "The 
Fertilization  of  Plants"  (p.  152)  by  examples  of  the  number 
of  pollen  grains  in  a  peony  and  a  dandelion,  and  then  adds, 
"Let  us  now  apply  these  views  to  a  few  common  flowers." 

Well-selected  examples  not  only  make  an  exposition 
clearer :  they  also  add  greatly  to  its  liveliness  and  interest. 
The  aim  of  an  exposition  is  to  instruct;  but  that  does 
not  give  it  a  right  to  be  dull.    A  work  of  science  or  of 


182  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

history  may  be  as  fascinating  as  a  novel.  The  offence  of 
dullness  brings  its  own  punishment  by  defeating  the  pur- 
pose of  the  explanation.  A  prosy  writer  makes  a  sleepy 
reader.  Examples,  however,  should  always  be  familiar 
enough  to  the  reader  to  assist  him  in  grasping  your  idea. 
A  far-fetched  example  is  worse  than  useless.  To  employ 
such  an  illustration  is  "  to  explain  the  difficult  by  means 
of  the  more  difficult,"  —  a  very  serious  fault  in  composition. 

COMPARISON  AND  CONTRAST  IN  EXPOSITION 

In  many  cases  the  simplest  way  to  explain  one  thing 
is  by  comparing  or  contrasting  it  with  another.1 

Dr.  Van  Dyke  begins  his  explanation  of  how  to  make  a 
smudge  (p.  145)  by  telling  you  how  not  to  do  it.  Professor  Goss 
(p.  151)  brings  out  the  difficulties  of  designing  a  locomotive 
by  comparing  it  with  a  stationary  engine.  So,  in  studying  the 
structure  and  anatomy  of  animals,  it  is  not  unusual  to  begin 
with  the  consideration  of  some  familiar  animal,  like  the  cat,  and 
to  use  this  as  the  standard  of  comparison  from  which  the  struc- 
ture of  other  animals  varies. 

If  you  have  younger  brothers  or  sisters,  you  are  always 
explaining  things  to  them  by  comparison.  In  such  a  case, 
be  sure,  in  the  first  place,  that  you  see  clearly  just  what 
it  is  that  they  wish  to  know.  Then  consider  what  they 
already  know  about  the  subject;  or,  if  it  is  quite  new  to 
them,  think  of  something  with  which  they  are  familiar, 
as  a  starting  point  for  your  explanation.  Finally,  be  sure 
that  you  couch  your  explanation  in  terms  that  they  under- 
stand ;  or,  if  .you  must  use  an  unfamiliar  term,  explain  it 
carefully  before  you  go  on. 

The  suggestions  in  the  preceding  paragraph  apply  to 
every  grade  of  composition.    If  the  method  is  to  be  useful, 

1  The  principle  is  the  same  as  in  description  (see  pp.  120-12.'>). 


COMPARISON    AND   CONTRAST    IX    EXPOSITION    183 

the  comparison  must  be  made  with  an  object  or  idea 
which  is  already  familiar  to  the  reader.  It  would  only 
double  your  task  to  choose  something  which  must  itself 
be  explained.  Moreover,  the  points  of  resemblance  should 
be  clear  and  obvious,  and  the  points  of  difference  equally 
well  marked.  Finally,  as  soon  as  the  comparison  has 
served  its  purpose  of  aiding  in  the  exposition,  it  should 
be  dropped  at  once. 

The  utility  of  comparison  with  familiar  objects  is  well 
illustrated  by  Professor  Shaler  in  the  following  passage,1 
hi  which  he  explains  how  the  mountain  ranges  of  this 
continent  were  formed  :  — 

Let  these  pages  represent  the  rocks  of  that  part  of  the  earth's 
crust  occupied  by  the  Cordilleras,  the  right-hand  side  the  east, 
the  left  side  the  west,  as  on  a  map  :  press  them  together  from 
the  sides  and  we  can  fold  them  into  ridges.  This  pressure, 
and  the  consequent  corrugations  of  the  paper,  represent  in  a  rude, 
diagrammatic  way  the  force  and  the  effects  of  the  pressure  which 
created  the  main  chains  of  the  Cordilleras.  Press  the  sheets  less 
strongly  in  the  plane  from  top  to  bottom  of  the  book,  and  we 
find  that  there  is  a  tendency  to  form  folds  across  the  page. 
This  experiment  is  imperfect  in  its  results,  because  the  sheets  of 
paper  are  thin,  small,  and  very  flexible  ;  but  we  may  with  some 
thought  conceive  how  thick  beds  of  rock,  occupying  a  field  a 
thousand  miles  across,  might  fold  in  two  different  ways  under 
the  influence  of  pressure  acting  in  two  diverse  lines. 

The  following  passage  from  one  of  Goldsmith's  essays 
compares  the  ancient  Athenians  with  the  Englishmen  of 
the  author's  day  :  — 

We  might  here  draw  a  parallel  between  the  inhabitants  of 
Athens  and  the  natives  of  England  in  point  of  constitution, 
genius,  and  disposition.  Athens  was  a  free  state  like  England, 
that  piqued  itself  upon  the  influence  of  the  democracy.  Like 
England,  its  wealth  and  strength  depended  upon  its  maritime 

i  From  "The  Story  or  Our  Continent "  (Boston,  Ginn  &  Company). 


184  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

power;  and  it  generally  acted  as  umpire  in  the  disputes  that 
arose  among  its  neighbors.  The  people  of  Athens,  like  those  of 
England,  were  remarkably  ingenious,  and  made  great  progress  in 
the  arts  and  sciences.  They  excelled  in  poetry,  history,  philosophy, 
mechanics,  and  manufactures  ;  they  were  acute,  discerning,  dis- 
putatious, fickle,  wavering,  rash,  and  combustible,  and,  above  all 
other  nations  in  Europe,  addicted  to  ridicule,  —  a  character  which 
the  English  inherit  in  a  very  remarkable  degree. 

Comparison  is  especially  useful  in  explaining  abstract  or 
intangible  subjects  or  ideas.  It  enables  the  reader  "  to  pass," 
as  we  say,  "  from  the  known  to  the  unknown,"  —  from  the 
specific  and  real  to  the  general  and  immaterial.  It  also 
assists  the  reader's  memory.  A  vivid  and  striking  com- 
parison fixes  in  his  mind  the  idea  or  principle,  which, 
without  it,  might  soon  fade  away  and  disappear.  In 
both  of  the  passages  that  follow,  the  purpose  of  the 
writers  is  the  same,  —  to  define  invention  in  art  or  litera- 
ture. The  first  (by  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds)  is  admirably 
expressed ;  the  second  (hy  Mrs.  Shelley)  is  excellent,  but 
not  quite  so  highly  finished  as  the  other.  Of  the  two, 
however,  the  second  is  likely  to  dwell  longer  in  the 
memory,  because  of  its  liveliness,  and,  in  particular, 
because  of  the  comparison  with  which  it  ends. 

Invention,  strictly  speaking,  is  little  more  than  a  new  combi- 
nation of  those  images  which  have  been  previously  gathered  and 
deposited  in  the  memory.  Nothing  can  come  of  nothing  ;  he 
who  has  laid  up  no  materials  can  produce  no  combinations.  —  Sir 
Joshua  Reynolds. 

Everything  must  have  a  beginning,  to  speak  in  Sanchean x 
phrase ;  and  that  beginning  must  be  linked  to  something  that 
went  before.  The  Hindoos  give  the  world  an  elephant  to  support 
it,  but  they  make  the  elephant  stand  upon  a  tortoise.    Invention, 

1  An  allusion  to  Sancho  Panza,  Don  Quixote's  page,  who  was  fond  of 
proverbs  and  proverbial  phrases. 


THE   USE   OF  DIAGRAMS  185 

it  must  be  humbly  admitted,  does  not  consist  in  creating  out  of 
void,  but  out  of  chaos  ;  the  materials  must,  in  the  first  place,  be 
afforded  :  it  can  give  form  to  dark,  shapeless  substances,  but 
cannot  bring  into  being  the  substance  itself.  In  all  matters  of 
discovery  and  invention,  even  of  those  that  appertain  to  the 
imagination,  we  are  continually  reminded  of  the  story  of  Colum- 
bus and  his  egg.  Invention  consists  in  the  capacity  of  seizing  on 
the  capabilities  of  a  subject,  and  in  the  power  of  moulding  and 
fashioning  ideas  suggested  to  it.  —  Mrs.  Shelley. 


THE  USE  OF  DIAGRAMS 

In  many  cases  you  can  hardly  make  an  exposition 
clear  without  using  diagrams  or  pictures.  It  is  impossible, 
for  example,  to  explain  a  problem  in  geometry  without  a 
diagram ;  and  without  a  map  or  plan  it  would  be  difficult 
to  make  a  stranger  understand  how  your  town  is  laid  out. 
So  in  most  expositions  of  machines  and  of  the  shapes  of 
plants  or  animals,  diagrams  or  figures  are  necessary. 

If  you  try  to  reproduce  Sir  John  Lubbock's  exposition  with- 
out the  diagrams,  you  will  at  once  recognize  their  value.  Without 
the  figures,  the  exposition  would  have  taken  much  more  space, 
and  after  all  would  have  been  far  less  clear  and  accurate.  The 
diagram  in  Professor  Goss's  exposition  (p.  157)  shows  at  a 
glance  how  much  harder  it  is  to  design  a  locomotive  than  a 
stationary  engine.  Note  also  the  use  of  diagrams  and  figures  to 
supplement  and  illustrate  the  definitions  in  any  largo  dictionary. 
Von  will  find  abundant  examples  of  the  value  of  diagrams  in 
exposition  in  your  text-books  of  botany,  physiology,  and  physics. 

Diagrams  should  he  as  simple  as  possible,  and  should 
not  be  cumbered  with  superfluous  details.  A  simple  out- 
line drawing,  with  letters  or  numerals  for  reference,  is 
usually  sufficient.  Beauty  and  artistic  finish  are  scarcely 
expected  in  such  illustrations.  Their  chief  requirements 
are  clearness  and  accuracy. 


186  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


EXPOSITION  IN  WRITTEN  "  TESTS  " 

Tests  and  written  examinations  afford  excellent  prac- 
tice in  exposition ;  for  they  require  you  to  collect  and 
express  your  knowledge  in  a  limited  time.  Your  mind, 
therefore,  must  work  both  quickly  and  accurately,  and  you 
must  apply  the  principles  of  exposition  as  if  they  were 
second  nature.  Before  you  write  the  answer  to  a  question, 
take  a  minute  or  two  to  recall  what  you  have  learned 
about  the  subject  and  to  consider  how  you  can  best  set 
forth  your  knowledge.  Jot  down  on  a  bit  of  paper  the 
things  that  you  must  mention,  and  the  order  in  which  to 
write  about  them.  Then  tell  what  you  know  as  clearly 
as  possible.  When  you  have  finished  your  paper,  read  it 
over  to  see  if  you  have  omitted  anything  or  have  made 
any  other  mistakes  that  you  can  correct. 

Not  only  will  this  plan  give  you  valuable  practice  in  composi- 
tion, but  it  will  save  time  and  pay  well  in  its  actual  result  on  your 
standing  in  the  class.  Test  papers  and  examination  books  are 
marked  by  persons  who  have  a  good  many  of  them  to  read,  and 
who  often  have  to  work  rapidly.  When,  therefore,  the  exam- 
iner comes  to  a  paper  in  which  it  is  easy  to  grasp  the  facts,  he 
inevitably  gives  it  a  higher  grade.  This  is  quite  proper.  You 
cannot  pass  a  good  examination  unless  you  can  make  yourself 
clear.  An  exposition  which  is  mixed  up  and  obscure  usually 
goes  back  to  a  fragmentary  and  confused  knowledge  of  the  subject. 

It  is  because  examinations  require  you  not  only  to  know 
things,  but  also  to  have  your  knowledge  ready  for  instant  use, 
that  they  play  so  important  a  part  in  mental  training.  Profes- 
sional scholars  may  take  plenty  of  time  to  work  up  their  ideas 
into  presentable  shape.  Men  of  affairs,  on  the  contrary,  must,  in 
the  give  and  take  of  active  life,  use  what  they  know  at  a  moment's 
notice.  Examinations,  whether  written  or  oral,  help  to  form  this 
habit  of  thinking  quickly  and  remembering  without  too  long 
deliberation. 


ABSTRACTS  187 


ABSTRACTS 


Not  infrequently  one  is  required  to  prepare  an  abstract 
or  summary  of  a  paper  or  of  a  passage  from  a  book.  At 
school  or  college,  for  instance,  you  must  be  able  to  make 
useful  notes  on  your  reading;  in  business  your  employer 
may  ask  you  to  collect  and  present  to  him  the  substance 
of  a  report  or  of  a  number  of  documents. 

The  first  thing  to  do  in  such  cases  is  to  read  the  paper 
through.  Unless  you  do  this,  you  cannot  understand  the 
writer's  purpose,  and  therefore  you  cannot  judge  what  is 
important  and  decide  what  you  may  omit.  Your  compre- 
hension of  the  main  purpose  of  the  writer  will  largely 
determine  the  value  of  your  summary. 

The  important  points  should  then  be  clearly  stated  and 
dulv  emphasized.  If  the  abstract  must  be  short,  you  may 
he  able  to  preserve  nothing  except  these  points.  If  you 
have  space,  insert  short  quotations  or  striking  examples 
from  the  original  document.  These  will  impart  to  your 
abstract  something  of  the  effect  of  the  original  and  will 
thus  make  it  a  more  adequate  substitute.  Be  careful, 
however,  that  such  quotations  and  examples  do  not  obscure 
significant  facts. 

Care  in  paragraphing  will  stand  you  in  good  stead;  for 
the  indentations  in  the  page  will  indicate  at  once  to  the 
eye  the  main  divisions  of  the  subject,  and  will  therefore 
save  words.  So,  again,  you  can  put  minor  facts  into  the 
subordinate  clauses  and  phrases  of  your  sentences,  and  thus 
make  your  abstract  fuller  without  lessening  the  emphasis 
on  more  important  points. 

A  report  of  a  lecture  or  address  is  of  much  the  same 
nature  ;is  an  abstract,  except  that  here  you  must  rely 
on  your  memory  or  on  your  notes  for  the  facts  that  you 


188  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

mean  to  include.  Always  try  to  apprehend  and  make  clear 
the  main  outlines  of  what  you  report:  that  is  essential. 
Then  fill  in  the  report  with  illustrations  which  the  lecturer 
used  and  with  words  or  turns  of  phrase  which  are  charac- 
teristic of  him. 

The  writing  of  abstracts  and  reports  may  seem  dry 
work;  but  few  exercises  give  better  training  in  all  that 
makes  for  efficiency.  In  the  first  place,  since  no  one  can 
write  a  good  abstract  unless  he  understands  what  he  is 
summarizing,  the  exercise  fosters  the  habit  of  reading  atten- 
tively and  with  thorough  comprehension.  In  the  second 
place,  it  sharpens  your  sense  of  what  is  important,  for  you 
are  obliged  to  distinguish  the  essential  points  from  what 
is  of  less  consequence.  Finally,  it  increases  your  vocab- 
ulary, for  you  have  to  use  a  somewhat  different  set  of 
words  for  every  subject  and  every  author. 

For  these  reasons  every  student  should  be  scrupulous 
about  the  form  of  the  notes  which  he  takes,  whether  of 
his  reading  or  of  lectures.  Slovenly  habits  in  this  respect 
may  go  far  to  destroy  the  result  of  many  hours  spent  in 
the  study  of  English  composition ;  and,  on  the  other  hand, 
the  ability  to  take  good  notes  is  of  direct  practical  advan- 
tage both  in  business  and  in  school  or  college. 

EXPOSITION  OF  CHARACTER 

The  close  relation  between  descriptive  and  expository 
writing  comes  out  in  the  exposition  of  character.  Description 
of  the  character  of  an  individual  often  runs  over  into 
exposition  of  a  type  of  character,  so  that  no  clear  line  can 
be  drawn  between  the  two.  For  example,  you  might 
describe  Washington's  character  by  explaining  the  highest 
type  of  the  American  gentleman  and  then  pointing  to  him 


EXPOSITION  OF   CHARACTER  189 

as  the  best  example  of  the  type ;  or  you  might  explain 
what  qualities  an  American  gentleman  should  have  by 
describing  Washington  as  the  best  example. 

In  the  main,  the  description  of  an  individual  makes 
free  use  of  specific  facts  that,  taken  together,  would  apply 
to  no  one  else  ;  the  exposition  of  a  type  consists  of  general 
assertions  that  apply  to  all  similar  cases. 

George  Eliot's  descriptions  of  her  characters  often 
approach  very  closely  to  exposition.  The  description  of 
Godfrey  Cass  in  Chapter  in  of  "  Silas  Marner "  has  the 
following  passage :  — 

Godfrey  stood  still  with  his  back  to  the  fire,  uneasily  moving 
his  fingers  among  the  contents  of  his  side-pockets,  and  looking  at 
the  floor.  That  big  muscular  frame  of  his  held  plenty  of  animal 
courage,  but  helped  him  to  no  decision  when  the  dangers  to  be 
braved  were  such  as  could  neither  be  knocked  down  nor  throttled. 
His  natural  irresolution  and  moral  cowardice  were  exaggerated 
by  a  position  in  which  dreaded  consequences  seemed  to  press 
equally  on  all  sides,  and  his  irritation  no  sooner  provoked  him  to 
defy  Dunstan  and  anticipate  all  possible  betrayals,  than  the  mis- 
eries he  must  bring  on  himself  by  such  a  step  seemed  more  unen- 
durable to  him  than  the  present  evil.  The  results  of  confession 
were  not  contingent,  they  were  certain  ;  whereas  betrayal  was 
not  certain.  From  the  near  vision  of  that  certainty  he  fell  back 
on  suspense  and  vacillation  with  a  sense  of  repose. 

Newman's  exposition,  "The  Gentleman"  (pp.  399-400) 
is  a  good  example  of  the  exposition  of  character.  It  might 
be  called  an  extended  definition.  He  specifies  a  great 
many  traits,  all  of  which,  however,  come  under  the  general 
statement  at  the  beginning,  "It  is  almost  a  definition 
of  a  gentleman  to  say  that  he  is  one  who  never  inflicts 
pain."  Without  the  minute  specification  of  details,  the  ex- 
planation would  be  incomplete;  without  the  single  prin- 
ciple, these  details  would  be  scattering  and  inconclusive. 


190  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

The  similarity,  as  well  as  the  difference,  between  de- 
scription and  exposition  in  the  matter  of  character  may  be 
seen  clearly  by  comparing  Hazlitt's  description  of  the  char- 
acter of  Polonius  with  Dr.  Johnson's  exposition  of  the  same 
character.  Both  passages  are  famous,  and  both  deserve 
their  reputation.  Johnson  begins  with  Polonius  as  an 
individual,  but  soon  runs  over  into  an  exposition  of  the 
general  type ;  he  comes  back  to  Polonius  at  the  end.  Haz- 
litt  keeps  his  eye  on  the  individual  throughout ;  yet  his 
description  is  partly  expository.  Of  the  two  passages,  Dr. 
Johnson's  is  the  juster  account  of  Polonius. 

Polonius  is  a  man  bred  in  courts,  exercised  in  business,  stored 
with  observation,  confident  in  bis  knowledge,  proud  of  his  elo- 
quence, and  declining  into  dotage.  His  mode  of  oratory  is  truly 
represented  as  designed  to  ridicule  the  practice  of  those  times,  of 
prefaces  that  made  no  introduction,  and  of  method  that  embar- 
rassed rather  than  explained.  This  part  of  his  character  is  acci- 
dental, the  rest  is  natural.  Such  a  man  is  positive  and  confident, 
because  he  knows  that  his  mind  was  once  strong,  and  knows  not 
that  it  is  become  weak.  Such  a  man  excels  in  general  principles, 
but  fails  in  the  particular  application.  He  is  knowing  in  retro- 
spect, and  ignorant  in  foresight.  While  he  depends  upon  his 
memory,  and  can  draw  from  his  repositories  of  knowledge,  he 
utters  weighty  sentences,  and  gives  useful  council ;  but,  as  the 
mind  in  its  enfeebled  state  cannot  be  kept  long  busy  and  intent, 
the  old  man  is  subject  to  sudden  dereliction  of  his  faculties,  he 
loses  the  order  of  his  ideas,  and  entangles  himself  in  his  own 
thought,  till  he  recovers  the  leading  principle,  and  falls  again 
into  his  former  train.  This  idea  of  dotage  encroaching  upon 
wisdom  will  solve  all  the  phenomena  of  the  character  of  Polonius. 
—  Johnson. 

Polonius  is  a  perfect  character  in  its  kind  ;  nor  is  there  any 
foundation  for  the  objections  which  have  been  made  to  the  con- 
sistency of  this  part.  It  has  been  said  that  he  acts  very  foolishly 
and  talks  very  sensibly.  There  is  no  inconsistency  in  that.  Again, 
that  he  talks  wisely  at  one  time  and  foolishly  at  another;  that 


SUMMARY  OF  PRINCIPLES  191 

his  advice  to  Laertes  is  very  excellent,  and  his  advice  to  the  king 
and  queen  on  the  subject  of  Hamlet's  madness  very  ridiculous. 
But  he  gives  the  one  as  a  father,  and  is  sincere  in  it  ;  he  gives  the 
other  as  a  mere  courtier,  a  busybody,  and  is  accordingly  officious, 
garrulous,  and  impertinent.  In  short,  Shakspere  has  been  accused 
of  inconsistency  in  this  and  other  characters,  only  because  he  has 
kept  up  the  distinction  which  there  is  in  nature  between  the 
understandings  and  the  moral  habits  of  men,  between  the  absurd- 
ity of  their  ideas  and  the  absurdity  of  their  motives.  Polonius  is 
not  a  fool,  but  he  makes  himself  so.  His  folly,  whether  in  his 
actions  or  speeches,  comes  under  the  head  of  impropriety  of 
intention.  —  IIazlitt. 

These  two  extracts  show  how  impossible  it  is  to  sort 
and  label  different  types  of  literature  in  accordance  with 
any  rigid  system  of  classification.  Description  and  exposi- 
tion run  into  each  other,  and  there  can  be  no  definite  line 
of  separation  between  them.  In  general,  the  distinction 
depends  upon  the  writer's  purpose  (see  pp.  96-97) ;  but  in 
many  instances,  when  the  purpose  is  both  to  explain 
something  and  to  make  us  see  it  vividly,  an  author  com- 
bines the  methods  of  exposition  with  those  of  description. 
In  such  cases,  it  makes  little  difference  to  which  of  these 
two  forms  of  discourse  we  assign  the  passage. 


SUMMARY   OF  PRINCIPLES 

Tn  summing  up  the  practical  principles  of  exposition,  we 
must  remember  that  the  essential  thing  in  explanation  is 
the  orderly  arrangement  of  the  material.  An  outline  or 
plan  is  of  the  greatest  assistance  in  perfecting  this  arrange- 
ment;  an  introduction  and  a  conclusion  in  definite  terms 
are  usually  necessary  to  make  it  obvious  to  the  reader.  As 
you  pass  from  one  step  of  the  exposition  to  another,  give 
notice  of  your  progress. 


192  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

In  writing  out  the  complete  exposition,  be  careful  of 
paragraphing  and  of  sentence  structure.  Effective  para- 
graphing is  the  surest  and  easiest  way  to  indicate  the  divi- 
sions of  a  subject ;  and  without  a  variety  of  sentences  it 
is  impossible  to  express  any  except  the  simplest  relations 
between  facts  or  ideas.  Be  particular,  too,  in  the  selection 
of  words,  for  carelessness  or  inaccuracy  in  this  respect  may 
seriously  obscure  your  meaning. 

Eemember,  too,  the  value  of  diagrams.  In  many  cases 
you  can  give  more  help  by  a  sketch  map  than  by  a  page 
of  description. 

Finally,  make  your  exposition  interesting  to  the  reader. 
This  you  can  accomplish  in  two  ways.  In  the  first  place, 
you  may  bring  it  into  connection  with  his  own  experience 
and  with  objects  with  which  he  is  familiar.  It  always 
arouses  our  interest  to  discover  unsuspected  relations 
between  things  with  which  we  are  already  well  acquainted. 
With  this  in  view,  Sir  John  Lubbock  shows  how  necessary 
a  bumblebee  is  to  a  nettle  flower  (p.  152). 

In  the  second  place,  do  not  hesitate  to  put  color  and 
action  into  an  exposition  when  you  can  do  so  without 
distracting  the  reader.  The  more  you  can  stimulate  his 
attention,  the  more  easily  he  will  follow  you.  Grey's 
"Australian  Kangaroo  Hunt"  (p.  147)  is  all  the  better 
for  being  lively  and  picturesque,  and  the  humor  of  Dr. 
Van  Dyke's  directions  for  a  smudge  makes  them  easier  to 
remember.  Do  not  confine  yourself  to  cold  and  abstract 
generalities.  Illustrate  and  exemplify  your  general  princi- 
ples by  applying  them  to  specific  facts  or  individual  cases. 

The  exposition  of  an  abstruse  subject  may  require 
some  study  before  it  is  fully  comprehended ;  but  the 
writer  should  not  add  to  the  difficulty  and  discourage 
the  reader  by  a  dull  and  lifeless  style. 


LITERARY  CRITICISM  193 


LITEEAEY  CRITICISM 


One  of  the  prime  objects  of  education  is  to  foster  a 
taste  for  reading  and  to  cultivate  a  discriminating  appre- 
ciation of  the  best  books.  Accordingly,  every  educated 
person  needs  the  power  to  express  his  judgment  of  what 
he  reads.  Such  a  judgment  is  called  a  criticism  (from  the 
Greek  word  meaning  "  to  judge  "). 

Almost  all  book  reviews  fall  under  the  head  of  criti- 
cism ;  and  much  of  the  best  criticism  has  appeared  in 
this  form.  Some  reviews  attempt  only  to  summarize  the 
works  under  consideration.  Such  reviews,  though  they 
may  be  very  useful,  cannot  be  called  criticisms.  Indeed, 
they  are  rather  book  notices  than  reviews. 

Though  one  usually  knows  in  a  general  way  what 
one's  opinion  of  a  book  is,  it  is  often  by  no  means  easy 
to  put  this  opinion  into  appropriate  words.  Criticism, 
indeed,  is  one  of  the  most  difficult  kinds  of  composition. 
It  demands  knowledge,  insight,  a  judicial  temper,  and 
an  uncommon  keenness  of  discrimination.  A  critic  must 
often  distinguish  between  things  which  are  in  the  main 
very  much  alike,  and  to  express  such  subtle  differences 
requires  a  large  vocabulary  and  great  skill  and  exactness 
in  using  it. 

Perhaps  the  quickest  means  of  defining  one's  impres- 
sion of  any  book  is  to  compare  it  mentally  with  another 
book  of  a  similar  nature.  Suppose,  for  example,  you  wish 
to  express  your  opinion  of  Hawthorne's  "House  of  the 
Seven  Gables."  If  you  call  before  your  mind  George 
Eliot's  "Silas  Marner,"  which  likewise  deals  with  the 
persistent  effect  of  wrongdoing,  you  sec  at  once  that 
Hawthorne  portrays  far  subtler  and  less  tangible  char- 
acteristics of  human  nature ;  and  that,  though  his  people 


194  COMPOSITION  AXD  RHETORIC 

seem  real,  yet  they  do  not  quite  belong  to  the  workaday 
world  that  we  know.  This  observation  makes  you  note 
the  constant  play  of  fantasy  and  imagination  which  so 
often  brings  Hawthorne's  stories  to  the  verge  of  poetry, 
and  your  criticism  is  well  begun.  On  the  other  hand,  you 
observe  the  relentless  way  in  which  George  Eliot  follows 
out  the  consequences  of  an  evil  deed,  —  the  almost  scien- 
tific precision  with  which  she  traces  its  far-reaching 
results. 

You  may  often  use  such  a  comparison  in  the  actual 
expression  of  your  judgment,  —  that  is,  in  your  criticism 
of  the  book.1  Dr.  Johnson,  one  of  the  greatest  of  English 
critics,  was  fond  of  this  method.  Here  is  what  he  wrote 
in  discussing  the  poetry  of  Alexander  Pope :  — 

If  the  flights  of  Dryden  are  higher,  Pope  continues  longer  on 
the  wing.  If  of  Dryden's  fire  the  blaze  is  brighter,  of  Pope's  the 
heat  is  more  regular  and  constant.  Dryden  often  surpasses  expec- 
tation, and  Pope  never  falls  below  it.  Dryden  is  read  with  frequent 
astonishment,  and  Pope  with  perpetual  delight. 

Macaulay's  parallel  between  Milton  and  Dante  is  a 
well-known  example  of  the  same  method.  By  means  of 
this  contrast,  illustrated  .  by  copious  extracts  from  both 
poets,  Macaulay  makes  clear  his  point  that  Milton's  fallen 
angels,  though  still  spirits,  "have  just  enough  in  common 
with  human  nature  to  be  intelligible  to  human  beings  " ; 
that  "  their  characters  are,  like  their  forms,  marked  by  a 
certain  dim  resemblance  to  those  of  men,  but  exaggerated 
to  gigantic  dimensions  and  veiled  in  mysterious  gloom." 
Later  in  the  essay  he  uses  the  same  parallel  to  bring  out 
the  distinction  that  "  the  character  of  Milton  was  distin- 
guished by  loftiness  of  spirit ;  that  of  Dante  by  intensity 
of  feeling." 

1  On  comparison  and  contrast  in  exposition,  see  p.  182. 


LITERARY   CRITICISM  195 

In  no  case,  however,  should  a  comparison  be  pursued 
unless  it  turns  out  to  be  of  practical  service  in  explaining 
your  ideas.  Nor  should  it  be  far-fetched  or  over-ingenious. 
If  the  similarity  or  dissimilarity  is  not  easily  recognizable, 
the  reader  is  likely  to  become  confused  and  lose  his  inter- 
est. Finally,  when  a  comparison  has  done  its  work,  it 
should  be  dropped ;  it  should  not  be  carried  out  in  weari- 
some detail.  Incidental  comparisons,  like  that  of  Burns 
and  Byron  in  Carlyle's  "Essay  on  Burns,"  are  often  more 
effective  than  long  and  labored  parallels. 

In  writing  your  criticism,  make  plentiful  reference  to 
the  facts  of  the  book,  in  order  to  back  up  your  general 
assertions.  If  you  can  quote  a  few  passages,  so  much  the 
better;  for  then  you  may  be  sure  that  the  reader  will 
understand  the  grounds  of  your  opinion.  A  general  state- 
ment,'not  thus  supported  by  quotations  or  specific  refer- 
ences, may  apply  to  so  many  books  that  it  gives  the  reader 
no  individual  idea  of  the  particular  work  which  you  are 
criticising. 

Do  not  confuse  criticism  with  fault-finding.  Almost 
any  one  can  point  out  some  blemish  in  even  the  greatest 
work  ;  but  such  carping  seldom  serves  any  useful  purpose. 
If,  on  the  other  hand,  you  can  suggest  the  power  of  a 
work  or  indicate  its  beauties  and  excellences,  you  may 
add  to  your  reader's  enjoyment  and  appreciation  of  good 
literature.  Indiscriminate  praise,  however,  is  quite  as 
worthless  as   indiscriminate  censure. 

Before  you  try  to  express  your  opinion  of  a  book,  be 
sure  that  you  understand  the  author's  purpose.  Do  not 
pass  judgment  on  Dickens's"  David  Copperfield "  as  if  you 
thought  he  had  tried  to  write  an  exciting  story  of  adven- 
ture, or  ou  Longfellow  as  if  he  ought  to  have  written  in 
as  martial  and  stirring  a  strain  as  Sir  Walter  Scott,    Your 


196  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

estimate,  if  it  is  to  be  fair,  must  include  an  appreciation 
of  the  author's  aim.  Every  author  has  a  right  to  choose 
his  own  subject  and  his  own  manner  of  treating  it.  A 
critic  may  express  an  opinion  on  the  author's  success  or 
failure  in  doing  what  he  undertook  to  do ;  but  to  assert 
that  he  ought  to  have  been  doing  something  else  is  arro- 
gance rather  than  criticism. 

Finally,  criticism  should  never  be  a  bare  statement  of 
personal  preference.  The  mere  assertion  that  Dickens  is 
your  favorite  author,  or  that  you  like  Longfellow  better 
than  Bryant,  is  about  as  profitable  as  the  remark  that  blue 
is  your  favorite  color,  or  that  you  do  not  like  tea  so  well 
as  coffee.  It  may  interest  your  personal  friends,  but  it 
can  hardly  concern  any  one  else.  What  your  criticism 
should  do  is  to  analyze  your  impression,  to  point  out  what 
is  admirable  in  your  author,  and  perhaps  in  part  to  define 
the  means  by  which  this  admirable  effect  is  produced.  In 
this  way  criticism  is  analogous  to  the  exposition  of  a 
character  (p.  188) ;  for  it  aims  to  select  and  make  evident 
those  traits  and  qualities  that  give  a  book  individuality 
and  make  it  different  from  any  other. 

Note. —Criticism  is  a  very  advanced  form  of  composition  and  may 
therefore  be  too  difficult  for  the  students  unless  they  have  acquired  con- 
siderable skill  in  writing.  If  it  is  found  desirable  to  attempt  it,  the  teacher 
may  prepare  the  way  by  bringing  out  diversities  of  opinion  in  a  class-room 
discussion,  and  by  insisting  on  the  separation  of  mere  differences  of  taste 
from  differences  of  judgment.  Then  each  pupil  may  write  out  his  own 
judgment,  supporting  it  by  constant  reference  to  the  work  in  hand.  Such 
practice  connects  itself  closely  with  the  study  of  literature.  Free  expres- 
sion of  opinion  as  to  the  authors  who  are  read  in  the  course  of  study 
should  be  encouraged  ;  but  sweeping  condemnation  or  indiscriminate  praise 
may  be  controlled  by  asking  for  reasons.  Above  all  things,  the  student 
should  not  attempt  impossible  things.  He  should  not  be  allowed  to  waste 
his  time  in  arranging  ten  American  poets  in  the  order  of  their  eminence,  or 
other  such  futile  tasks. 


TYPES  OF  CRITICISM  197 

TYPES  OF  CRITICISM 

One  type  of  criticism,  of  which  Dr.  Johnson  is  the  great 
English  exponent,  attempts  to  decide  outright  whether  a 
book  is  "good"  or  not.  The  weakness  of  this  method 
comes  from  the  difficulty  of  fixing  a  standard,  since  what 
is  "  good  "  in  literature  is  largely  a  matter  of  taste.  When, 
however,  a  criticism  of  this  sort  is  based  upon  such  wide 
reading,  sound  common  sense,  and  uprightness  of  char- 
acter, as  Dr.  Johnson's,  it  is  almost  always  helpful  and 
may  be  illuminating.1 

Other  critics  take  a  single  aspect  of  literature  and  esti- 
mate an  author  or  a  book  solely  or  principally  with  refer- 
ence to  that.  Thus  they  may  lay  stress  on  the  moral  (or 
ethical)  qualities  of  a  work,  —  on  its  noble  sentiments,  its 
earnest  purpose,  its  powerful  appeal  to  what  is  good  in 
human  nature,  or,  on  the  other  hand,  on  its  lack  of  moral 
earnestness,  its  frivolity,  its  cynicism.  Or  they  may  confine 
their  discussion  to  purely  literary  and  artistic  qualities,  — 
the  style,  the  proportions,  the  general  effect,  —  judging  the 
book  as  they  would  a  picture  or  a  statue.  Carlyle's  "  Essay 
on  Burns  "  is  a  conspicuous  example  of  the  ethical  temper. 
Its  chief  purpose  is  to  explain  how  the  poet's  character 
affected  his  life,  and  it  is  written  from  the  point  of  view 
of  a  stern  though  loving  and  compassionate  judge.  Walter 
Pater's  writings,  some  of  Stevenson's  essays,  and  Mr. 
Gates's  "  Studies  and  Appreciations  "  illustrate  the  artistic 
spirit  in  criticism. 

Still  another  type  of  criticism  busies  itself  with  tracing 
out  the  causes  Unit  have  made  a  work  just  what  it  is  and 

1  See  Johnson's  "  Lives  of  the  Poets"  for  examples.  This  type  of  criti- 
cism is  sometimes  called  magisterial  (from  the  Latin  magister,  "  a  master" 
or  "teacher").  The  dangers  and  defects  of  this  method  are  emphasized 
by  lia/.litt  in  the  preface  to  his  "Characters  of  Shaksuere's  Plays." 


198  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

with  determining  its  place  in  the  history  of  literature. 
This  method  is  called  historical  or  scientific  criticism.  It 
is  often  very  enlightening.  We  can  understand  Shakspere's 
"  Richard  III "  much  better,  for  example,  if  we  know  that 
he  wrote  it  under  the  influence  of  the  full-mouthed  and 
somewhat  ranting  style  of  Marlowe ;  and  "  Love's  Labor's 
Lost "  becomes  more  intelligible  when  we  recognize  in  the 
dialogue  the  crackle  of  repartee  which  characterizes  the 
comedies  of  Lyly.  Macaulay's  essay  on  Addison  is  a 
familiar  example  of  the  method  of  studying  an  author's 
works  in  connection  with  his  life  and  with  the  various 
influences  that  made  him  what  he  was. 

Finally,  there  is  a  type  of  criticism  which  undertakes  to 
reproduce  for  the  reader  the  impressions  which  a  work 
makes  on  the  critic's  mind  and  feelings.  Some  of  the  most 
exquisite  criticism  of  recent  times  follows  this  method.  It 
requires  a  rare  combination  of  qualities  in  the  critic  himself. 
To  a  temperament  naturally  sensitive  to  impressions  of 
every  kind,  he  must  add  a  taste  cultivated  by  an  intimate 
and  sympathetic  acquaintance  with  the  best  literature. 
And  besides  all  this,  he  must  be  master  of  a  style  which 
shall  enable  him  to  express  what  he  feels,  —  and  to  express 
it  with  distinctness  and  precision  in  its  most  delicate 
shades  of  difference.  Such  criticism  is  called  aesthetic,1  or 
(sometimes)  impressionistic.  Manifestly  it  is  of  great  value 
in  the  interpretation  of  literature.  Hazlitt's  "  Characters  of 
Shakspere's  Plays  "  is  an  example  of  the  kind  of  criticism 
that  aims  to  communicate  to  the  reader  the  impressions 
which  the  work  discussed  has  made  upon  the  critic  him- 
self. Hazlitt  interprets  the  characters  of  Shakspere  in 
terms  of  emotion  and  feeling. 

1  From  the  Greek  word  for  "  feeling." 


TYPES  OF   CRITICISM  199 

The  different  types  of  criticism  may  be  combined  in 
various  ways.  Thus  a  critic  may  begin  by  searching  for 
the  causes  to  which  the  peculiar  characteristics  of  a  work 
are  due,  and  may  then  proceed  to  pass  judgment  on  it  or 
to  describe  the  impression  that  it  makes  on  his  mind  and 
feelings.  Or  he  may  first  describe  his  impressions,  and 
then  trace  the  influences  which  have  affected  the  writer. 
And,  in  either  case,  he  may  also  consider  the  ethical  tend- 
encies of  the  work,  or  its  merits  and  defects  from  an 
artistic  point  of  view.  In  criticism,  as  in  all  other  depart- 
ments of  literature,  types  and  classes  run  into  each  other. 

Criticism  is  not  confined  to  literature.  The  same  prin- 
ciples apply  equally  to  the  expression  of  taste  and  judg- 
ment hi  other  branches  of  the  fine  arts.  A  critic  of  painting 
describes  the  methods  of  Raphael,  of  Rembrandt,  of  Millet, 
or  of  Whistler,  estimates  the  value  of  their  contribution 
to  our  culture  or  enjoyment,  and  defines  their  place  in  the 
history  of  their  art,  just  as  a  musical  critic  examines  and 
discusses  the  symphonies  of  Beethoven  or  the  operas  of 
Wagner.  Histories  of  sculpture  or  of  architecture  consist 
largely  of  discussions  of  single  statues  or  buildings  or  of 
the  work  of  individual  sculptors  or  architects.  But  whether 
the  criticism  be  of  a  poem  or  of  a  sonata,  of  a  statue  or  of 
a  city  hall,  it  should  always  be  based  on  knowledge  and 
sympathy,  and  expressed  with  moderation  and  a  fine  sense 
of  proportion. 


200  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

EXEECISES  IN  EXPOSITION 

Oral  Exercises 

Prepare  to  talk  for  two  minutes  upon  one  of  the  following 
subjects.  Your  preparation  may  consist  in  observing  the  thing 
which  you  are  to  describe,  in  reading  about  it,  or  in  conversation 
with  well-informed  persons.  Make  notes  of  what  you  see,  hear, 
and  read  ;  think  carefully  about  the  subject,  and  be  ready  to  talk 
clearly  in  the  order  presented  in  the  outline. 

Speak  distinctly,  slowly  enough  to  make  it  easy  to  follow  your 
meaning,  and  in  a  pleasant  tone.  Pronounce  your  words  accu- 
rately, not  clipping  or  slurring  them  as  in  rapid  and  careless  con- 
versation. Think  of  your  hearers  rather  than  of  yourself. 

1.  My  pencil. 

a.  Tell  just  what  a  pencil  is. 

b.  The   manufacture  of  pencils.     (Learn  all  that  you  can 

about  it,  by  conversation  or  reading.) 

(a)  Materials  used. 

(b)  Sources  of  materials. 

(c)  Process  of  manufacture. 

(d)  Well-known  firms  engaged   in  the  manufacture  of 

pencils. 

c.  The  uses  of  a  pencil. 

2.  Description  of  a  church  in  my  town. 

a.  General    appearance,  —  site,  style  of  architecture,  size, 

material. 

b.  Interior. 

3.  How  to  build  a  fire. 

a.  Preparation  of  the  place. 

b.  Collection  of  material. 

c.  Arrangement  of  material. 

d.  Care  of  the  fire. 

4.  Fuel  (wood,  coal,  coke,  oil,  gas). 
a.  Source. 

6.  Cost. 

c.  Advantages. 

d.  Disadvantages. 


EXERCISES  IN  EXPOSITION  201 

5.  Hollyhocks. 

a.  Describe  the  flowers. 

1>.  Tell  how  to  cultivate  them. 

6.  How  to  care  for  a  lawn. 

a.  Describe  a  well-kept  lawn. 

b.  Describe  the  means  by  which  a  lawn  is  kept  in  good 

condition. 

7.  How  bricks  are  made. 

a.  What  are  bricks? 

b.  From  what  material  are  they  made? 

c.  Where  are  brickyards  naturally  situated  ? 

d.  What  is  the  process  of  making  bricks  ? 

8.  Charcoal. 

a.  Tell  what  it  is. 

b.  Describe  the  manufacture  of  charcoal. 

c.  Chief  uses. 

(a)  For  what. 

(b)  By  whom. 

9.  Cranberries. 

a.  The  berry. 

b.  The  cranberry  vine. 

c.  How  the  cranberry  is  cultivated. 

d.  Chief  sources  of  supply. 

e.  Uses  of  the  berry. 

10.  How  to  set  up  a  tent. 

a.  1  Ascription  of  the  tent. 

b.  Appropriate  place  for  a  tent. 

c.  Process  of  setting  it  up. 

11.  The  building  of  a  scboolhouse. 

a.  Initial  steps.    By  whom  are  they  taken  ? 

b.  Authority  to  build.     In  whom  is  it  vested? 

c.  Location  of  the  schoolhouse.    What  determines  it  ?    By 

whom  is  the  site  selected  ? 

d.  Size  of  the  building.   What  determines  it?  Whodecides 

this  point? 

e.  The  amounl   to  be  appropriated  and  expended.    What 

determines  this?    What  authority  finally  decides  the 
matter? 


202  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

f.  Steps    taken    in   securing  the  plans  and   locating   the 

building.    Outline  them. 

g.  Trades  represented  in  the  transaction. 

h.  What  persons  are  or  should  be  interested  in  securing 
an  adequate  building?     Why? 

12.  An  ideal  school  building. 

a.  Explain  the  necessary  elements. 

b.  Explain  the  desirable  features.    Present  these  from  the 

point  of  view  of  (1)  the  pupil;   (2)  the  teacher;   (3) 
the  taxpayer. 

13.  The  carpenter. 

a.  What  is  his  work? 

h.  What  materials  does  he  work  with? 

c.  What  tools  does  he  require  ?    Describe  some  of  them. 

d.  How  does  he  learn  his  trade  ? 

e.  What    studies    in    school   contribute    directly   to    his 

preparation? 

14.  Following  the  topics  outlined  in  Exercise  13,  describe 
the  work  of  the  blacksmith  ;  the  electrician  ;  the  mason  ;  the 
plumber;  the  merchant. 

15.  You  intend  to  live  for  the  next  few  years  in  a  very  warm 
climate.     What  changes  will  this  involve  — 

a.  In  your  dress? 

b.  In  your  diet  ? 

c.  In  your  habits  of  life  ? 

16.  Describe  (in  accordance  with  the  following  outline)  some 
game  which  you  play. 

a.  The  players  required. 

b.  Materials  supplied  for  the  game. 

c.  Object  of  the  game. 

d.  Rules  of  the  game. 

17.  You  are  the  leader  of  an  expedition  to  the  Arctic  regions. 
What  preparations  must  you  make? 

a.  The  ship  (build  ;  provisions,  etc.). 

b.  The  crew  and  their  equipment. 

c.  Scientific  men  and  their  instruments. 

d.  Means  of  traversing  the  ice. 


EXERCISES    IX   EXPOSITION  203 

Outlines  and  Key-Sentences  (pp.  165-171) 

Examples  :  — 

1.  A  Pine  Cone. 

Key-Sentence:  A  pine  cone  —  the  round,  tapering'  fruit  of  the 
pine  —  is  made  up  of  woody  scales,  each  of  which  bears  one  or 
two  seeds  at  its  base. 

I.   Its  appearance. 
II.  Its  structure. 

III.  The  ripe  and  the  unripe  cone  compared. 

a.  Scales  :  shape,  size,  arrangement. 

b.  Seeds  :  appearance,  number,  position. 

IV.  Use  or  function  of  the  cone. 

V.   Varieties  of  cones,  on  different  pines. 

2.  A  China  Teacup. 
Key-Sentence :  A  china  teacup  is  made  from  a  fine  grade  of 
clay,  moulded,  baked,  and  glazed  in  such  a  way  that  it  becomes 
delicately  translucent  and  exceedingly  fragile. 
I.  Material.    (What?    Where  obtained ?) 
If.   Manufactme. 

a.  Process  of  shaping. 

b.  Decoration  and  glazing. 

c.  Firing. 

III.  Visit  to  a  pottery  or  china  shop. 

IV.  Describe  an  exquisite  piece  of  china,  comparing  it  with  a 

coarse  bit  of  pottery. 

Construct  outlines,  in  the  manner  of  the  two  examples,  for 
exposition  of  the  subjects  in  the  following  list.  Prepare  a  key- 
sentence  for  each  outline.    Exchange  outlines  for  criticism. 

1.  A  paper  box.  10.  How  hay  is  made. 

2.  A  wagon -wheel.  11.  How  a  roof  is  shingled. 

3.  A  horseshoe.  12.  How  laws  are  made. 

4.  A  paper  of  pins.  13.  How  a  colt  is  broken. 

5.  Bone  and  its  uses.  14.  How  a  dog  is  trained. 

6.  A  wheelbarrow.  15.  How  a  boy  lias  a  good  lime. 

7.  My  best  penknife  16.  What  girls  like  to  do. 

8.  Peanuts.  17.  How  Jack  raised  chickens. 

9.  Sweet,  potatoes.  18.  What  a  normal  school  is. 


204  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Introduction  and  Conclusion  (pp.  172-170) 

1.  Turn  to  the  Oral  Exercises  on  page  200,  and  prepare 
introductory  sentences  for  each  exposition.  Let  some  of  these 
sentences  be  questions  :  as,  — 

"  Do  you  know  how  we  harvest  ice  in  winter,  Jack?  Let  me 
tell  you." 

2.  Turn  to  a  text-book  in  physics,  physical  geography,  or  his- 
tory ;  find  a  good  exposition,  and  study  the  introduction.  If 
there  is  no  introduction,  explain  the  author's  reason  for  omit- 
ting it. 

3.  Invent  an  introduction  which  attracts  the  attention  of  the 
hearers  and  announces  the  subject  of  the  exposition. 

4.  Write  an  introduction  which  presents  the  scene  of  the 
exposition  to  the  hearer,  as  in  a  letter  from  your  home  to  a 
Cuban,  or  a  letter  written  from  Labrador. 

5.  Examine  your  text-books  with  reference  to  the  intro- 
ductory chapter  of  each.  Analyze  them  to  see  what  purpose 
they  serve. 

6.  Read  an  essay  by  Lamb,  Emerson,  or  Burroughs,  with 
reference  to  the  conclusion.    Show  in  what  this  consists. 

7.  Suggest  appropriate  conclusions  for  three  of  the  exposi- 
tions under  Oral  Exercises  (p.  200). 

8.  Find  in  your  library  an  example  of  scientific  exposition, 
and  note  the  conclusion. 


Transition  and  Coherence  (pp.  177-180) 

1.  Explain  the  game  of  tennis  to  a  friend  who  has  never 
played  it. 

2.  Describe  the  pleasures  of  skating.  Imagine  that  you  are 
writing  to  a  cousin,  in  Southern  California,  who  has  never  learned 
to  skate. 

3.  Explain  to  a  child  how  pearls  are  obtained.  Describe  the 
experience  of  a  pearl-diver. 

4.  Your  cousin,  who  lives  in  California,  writes  to  you, 
describing  the  rainy  season  there.    Reproduce  her  letter. 

Reply,  describing  a  New  England  winter  or  a  winter  in  the 
Middle  West. 


EXERCISES    IX    EXPOSITION  205 

5.  Frank  Swift,  who  has  just  entered  college,  writes  to  a 
friend  at  home,  describing  college  life.  Reproduce  the  letter, 
remembering  that  the  friend  has  never  been  at  college. 

6.  Tell  what  cocoanuts  are,  where  and  how  they  are  obtained, 
and  how  they  are  used. 

7.  Describe  the  sugar  cane  and  the  manufacture  of  sugar. 

8.  You  live  in  South  Carolina.  A  cousin  in  Michigan,  who 
has  never  been  in  the  South;  sends  to  you  for  information  about 
rice  and  rice  swamps,  for  use  in  her  essay.  Reply,  giving  the 
desired  explanation. 

9.  Where  and  how  is  coffee  obtained  ?  How  is  it  distributed  ? 
How  is  it  used? 

10.  Explain  the  construction  of  a  yacht  to  a  friend  who  has 
never  seen  one. 

11.  Describe  a  yacht  race. 

12.  Explain  the  building  of  a  birch  canoe.   (Read  the  account 
in  "  Hiawatha.") 

13.  Explain  a  bear  hunt  in  language  that  could  be  understood 
by  a  child. 

14.  Report  a  day's  climbing  in  the  mountains,  introducing 
such  explanations  as  are  necessary. 

The  Use  of  Examples  (p.  180) 

I.  Explain  the  following  statements,  by  means  of  examples  :  — 

1.  A  man  is  known  by  the  company  he  keeps. 

2.  A  rolling  stone  gathers  no  moss. 

3.  Handsome  is  that  handsome  does. 

4.  Many  hands  make  light  work. 

.1.  A  good  name  is  rather  to  be  chosen  than  great  riches. 
II.  Explain  by  examples  :  — 

1.  The  action  of  water  in  river  valleys. 

2.  That  fires  are  usually  due  to  carelessness. 

:5.  That  children  misunderstand  ordinary  terms  in  conver- 
sation. 

4.  What  you  mean  by  tin'  word  hero. 

5.  Your  understanding  of  <<hi<-niimi ;  telepathy;  >/<>'<////  «f 
hand;  tyrant;  traitor:  <;„r<ir</ :  magnanimity;  tact;  usury;  cunning; 
patriotism:  business  ability;  rashness;  prudence. 


206  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

The  Use  of  Diagrams  (p.  185) 

In  the  following  exercises,  use  such  sketches  and  diagrams  as 
are  necessary. 

1.  Explain  the  construction  of  a  suspension  bridge.  Draw  a 
diagram  to  make  your  essay  clear. 

2.  Explain  the  phases  of  the  moon,  using  a  diagram.  If  you 
do  not  understand  the  changes  in  the  appearance  of  the  moon, 
get  an  Astronomy,  and  study  the  explanation  until  it  seems  clear 
to  you. 

3.  By  means  of  a  diagram  and  a  written  description,  explain 
the  construction  of  a  canal  lock.  Show  how  the  lock  enables  a 
boat  to  pass  to  a  higher  or  a  lower  level. 

4.  Describe  a  windmill,  using  a  drawing  to  make  your  mean- 
ing clear.    Refer  to  the  drawing  by  letters. 

5.  What  is  a  pulley?  How  is  it  used?  Explain,  using  a 
drawing,  a  written  description,  and  an  illustrative  example. 
Read  your  exposition  to  yoiir  classmates,  and  ask  them  to  show 
how  each  of  these  three  means  of  explanation  helps  the  others. 

6.  Find  in  a  History  some  description  which  is  made  plain 
by  means  of  a  map  or  diagram.  Copy  both  the  description  and 
the  diagram,  to  present  to  the  class.  Show  how  each  reinforces 
the  other. 

7.  "What  is  a  watershed  ?  Explain  and  illustrate  by  means  of 
a  diagram  or  a  map  of  a  region  near  home. 

8.  Using  both  words  and  drawings,  describe  the  houses  of 
the  Eskimos. 

9.  What  is  meant  by  crystallization?  Explain  the  term,  giv- 
ing examples  and  illustrating  by  drawings. 

10.  Describe  a  lighthouse.  Tell  what  it  is  intended  to  do,  and 
then  show  how  it  does  it. 

11.  Bring  to  the  class  some  illustrated  piece  of  writing  which 
you  have  found  in  a  book  or  magazine.  Show  how  the  pictures 
illustrate  the  text,  and  the  text  explains  the  pictures. 

12.  Explain  the  action  of  some  mechanical  toy.  Use  a  diagram. 

Exposition  of  Character  (p.  188) 

1.  Express  as  clearly  as  you  can  your  conception  of  the 
character   of   Moses,   in   Goldsmith's    "Vicar   of    Wakefield''; 


EXERCISES  IN  EXPOSITION  207 

Herve  Riel ;  Dr.  Manette,  in  "  A  Tale  of  Two  Cities  "  ;  Madame 
Defarge;  Ivanhoe  ;  Cedric  the  Saxon  ;  Enoch  Arden. ;  Shylock; 
Portia;  Sir  Galahad;  Gareth;  Ulysses  (in  Tennyson's  "  Ulysses"). 

2.  Describe  your  favorite  character  in  history. 

3.  Contrast  courage  aud  cowardice  by  the  use  qf  illustrations. 

4.  Compare  a  thrifty  laborer  with  a  ne'er-do-well. 

5.  Compare  the  Russian  peasant  with  the  American  laborer. 

6.  By  what  means  does  Newman  make  clear  the  character  of 
a  gentleman  (p.  399)  ?    Give  examples. 

7.  Write  on  one  of  the  following  subjects,  endeavoring  to 
make  the  character  clear :  —  (1)  The  Leader  of  the  Gang;  (2)  The 
Captain  of  Industry  ;  (3)  The  Well-Trained  Servant ;  (4)  The 
Mother  ;  (5)  The  Early  Explorer. 

Miscellaneous  Exercises 


Jack,  a  city  boy,  ten  years  old,  goes  to  his  grandfather's  in 
the  country  to  spend  the  summer.  He  is  an  observant  boy,  and 
a>k-  many  questions,  among  them  the  following.  Answer  them 
clearly,  as  if  you  were  replying  to  Jack. 

1.  What  makes  the  days  longer  in  summer  than  in  winter? 

2.  Where  does  the  water  in  the  brook  come  from  and  where 
does  it  go  ? 

3.  How  do  fishes  breathe? 

4.  Why  do  you  drain  a  swamp,  and  how  do  yon  do  it  ? 

5.  How  do  you  make  butter? 

6.  How  do  they  make  smooth  boards  out  of  a  tree? 

7.  How  came  this  car  of  corn  to  be  speckled   red  and  white? 

8.  What  is  a  tedder?    What  does  it  do?    and  how? 

9.  How  do  voi i  split  a  big  boulder? 

10.  What  is  a  loll  gate?    Arc  there  any  now? 

11.  What  is  a  mortgage?    What  happens  if  it-  is  not  paid? 

I! 

Imagine  that  your  cousin,  a  girl  of  sixteen,  whose  home  is  in 

the  country,  visits  you  in  the  city.    You  explain  to  hers e  of 

the  unfamiliar  things  in  city  life,  as  follows  :  — 


208  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

1.  How  the  streets  are  cleaned,  and  why. 

2.  A  street-car  transfer  ;  what  it  is  ;  how  it  looks  ;  when  and 
how  it  is  used. 

3.  The  ferry  boat ;  its  nse  and  general  appearance. 

4.  The  elevator  in  a  large  building. 

5.  How  the  house  is  lighted. 

1.  Material  means  :  gas  pipes,  electric  wires,  etc. 

2.  Supply  :  through  a  company  ;  how  measured  ;  how  regu- 

lated. 

3.  Compare  the  advantages  of  kerosene,  gas,  and  electricity. 

6.  Explain  the  use  of  an  automatic  public  telephone. 

7.  Explain  how  your  city  is  governed.    (Prepare  an  outline.) 

8.  Describe  a  grain  elevator. 

9.  Compare  facilities  for  obtaining  food-stuffs  in  the  city  and 
in  the  country. 

Ill 

From  the  exercises  below  pick  out  a  subject  that  is  familiar  to 
you.  Prepare  an  outline;  then  explain  the  subject  fully,  clearly, 
and  in  accurate  language. 

1.  What  are  tides?  How  are  they  caused?  What  is  their 
effect? 

2.  What  is  a  freshet?    What  causes  it?    What  are  some  of 
the  effects  of  a  freshet  ? 

3.  I  had  an  orange  for  breakfast.    Where  did  it  come  from? 
How  was  it  grown  ?    How  did  it  get  to  me  ? 

4.  I  live  in  New  York.    Tell  me  about  the  prairies. 

5.  I  live  in  Ohio.    Tell  me  about  the  mountains. 

6.  Kate  lives  in  Nebraska.    Tell  her  about  the  seashore. 

7.  John's  home  is  in  Maine.    Tell  him  about  life  in  New- 
Orleans. 

8.  Explain  the  process  of  canning  fruits  and  vegetables. 

9.  How  is  gold  obtained?  coined?  used?    What  makes  it 
valuable  as  coin  ?  in  the  arts  ? 

10.  Chestnuts  :  what  they  are  ;  how  they  look  ;  where  they 
grow  ;  squirrels  and  chestnuts  ;  boys  and  chestnuts  ;  a  day  spent 
in  gathering  chestnuts. 

11.  Raisins  :  what  they  are  ;  how  they  are  obtained  ;  how  pre- 
pared for  market ;  how  used. 


EXERCISES  IN  EXPOSITION  209 

IV 

To  explain  an  idea  which  is  embodied  in  a  visible  and  tangible 
shape,  as  in  a  wheelbarrow  or  a  steam-engine,  is  less  difficult 
than  to  explain  the  meaning  of  a  word,  a  scientific  term,  or  an 
abstract  idea.  Yet  expositions  of  the  latter  kind  are  often  re- 
quired in  the  ordinary  business  of  life.  Training  in  this  variety 
of  composition  promotes  clearness  of  thought  as  well  as  accuracy 
of  expression. 

In  the  following  exercises,  try  to  get  a  definite  idea  of  the 
meaning  of  each  term  ;  then  express  your  idea  clearly  and  accu- 
rately. Use  definitions,  and,  when  you  can,  give  examples  from 
your  own  experience. 

1.  What  is  a  noun?    How  does  it  differ  from  a  verb?  from 
an  adjective  ? 

2.  "What  is  meant  by  the  phrase  nominative  absolute? 

3.  What  is  the  metric  system  ? 

4.  What  is  a  complex  fraction  ? 

5.  What  are  customs ?  duties? 

6.  What  is  meant  by  the  expression  "equation  of  payments  "  ? 

7.  Explain  the  rule  for  finding  the  area  of  a  rectangle. 

8.  What  is  meant  by  the  expression  "  the  survival  of  the 
fittest"? 

9.  Explain  the  botanical  terms  used  in  Sir  John  Lubbock's 
description  of  a  regular  flower  (p.  151). 

10.  Explain  the  terms  equator,  vernal  equinox,  longitude,  latitude, 
meridian,  parallel,  winter  solstice,  eclipse. 


1.  Make  an  outline  to  show  the  plan  of  the  exposition  in 
"  The  Locomotive  "  (pp.  154-150).  Observe  the  exactness  with 
which  statements  are  made  in  this  exposition.  Note  the  careful 
use  of  terms.  What  effect  is  secured  by  such  means?  Why 
would  a  playful  or  humorous  style  be  inadmissible  here  ? 

2.  Write,  in  the  simplest  possible  form,  directions  tor  making 
a  smudge.     Use  the  following  outline  :  — 

I.  Definition. 

II.    I'se  of  the  smudge. 


210  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

III.  Difficulties  encountered  in  making  a  smudge. 

IV.  The  proper  way  to  make  a  smudge.     (Compare  your 
explanation  with  that  of  Dr.  Van  Dyke.) 

3.  Make  an  outline  of  "  The  Fertilization  of  Plants  "  (p.  151). 

4.  Point  out  descriptive  words  and  phrases  which  clearly 
picture  the  conditions  of  the  "  Kangaroo  Hunt  "  (pp.  147-148). 

Describe  («)  the  savage,  (b)  the  wives  and  children,  (c)  the 
kangaroo,  (d)  the  attack. 

5.  Make  an  outline  of  "  The  Influence  of  Climate  on  Manners 
and  Customs  "  (pp.  149-151).  State  the  subject  of  each  para- 
graph, and  point  out  the  introductory  sentences  (if  there  is  an 
introduction) ,  —  the  examples,  —  and  the  conclusion.  Show  how 
the  various  descriptions  are  necessary  to  the  explanation  of  the 
subject.  Contrast  the  style  of  the  exposition  with  that  of  Dr.  Van 
Dyke's  account  of  "  The  Smudge." 


VI 

Read  the  following  extract  from  Gilbert  White's  "  Natural 
History  of  Selborne.*'  Then  write  an  account  of  some  bird  or 
animal,  including  an  example  of  its  instinct. 

In  the  following  instances  instinct  is  perfectly  uniform  and 
consistent.  There  are  three  creatures,  —  the  squirrel,  the  field- 
mouse,  and  the  bird  called  the  nuthatch,  —  which  live  much  on 
hazel  nuts  ;  and  yet  they  open  them  each  in  a  different  way. 
The  first,  after  rasping  off  the  small  end,  splits  the  shell  in  two 
with  his  long  fore  teeth,  as  a  man  does  with  his  knife  ;  the 
second  nibbles  a  hole  with  his  teeth,  as  regular  as  if  drilled  with 
a  wimble,  and  yet  so  small  that  one  would  wonder  how  the  kernel 
can  be  extracted  through  it ;  while  the  last  picks  an  irregular 
ragged  hole  with  his  bill  :  but,  as  this  artist  has  no  paws  to  hold 
the  nut  firm  while  he  pierces  it,  like  an  adroit  workman  he  fixes 
it,  as  it  were  in  a  vice,  in  some  cleft  of  a  tree  or  in  some  crevice, 
when,  standing  over  it,  he  perforates  the  stubborn  shell. 


CHAPTER  V 

ARGUMENT 
ARGUMENT  AND  EXPOSITION 

In  many  cases  there  is  no  substantial  difference  between 
argument  and  exposition ;  and  even  in  cases  where  there 
is  a  difference,  it  is  still  true  that  every  argument  must  be 
founded  on  an  adequate  explanation  of  the  subject  in  hand. 

The  main  distinction  between  exposition  and  argument 
is  a  difference  of  purpose.  An  exposition  aims  to  impart 
knowledge  or  to  make  a  subject  clearer.  An  argument 
aims  to  establish  or  change  the  opinion  of  the  hearer  or 
reader,  or,  it  may  be,  to  persuade  him  to  act  in  a  particular 
way.  In  an  argument,  we  assume  a  difference  of  opinion 
among  reasonable  men,  and  endeavor  to  bring  them  all 
over  to  our  own  side  of  the  case ;  in  an  exposition,  we 
assume  that  there  is  only  one  view  of  the  subject,  and  set 
forth  that  view  authoritatively. 

Argument  seldom  occurs  in  an  unmixed  form.  Expo- 
sition and  argument  run  into  each  other,  like  exposition 
and  description,  or  description  and  narration.1  Moreover, 
an  extended  argument  may  bring  in  all  the  other  forms 
of  discourse.  A  lawyer  arguing  a  case  of  collision  between 
two  ships  might  narrate  the  events  which  brought  them 
to  the  same  place,  describe  the  channel  and  islands  where 
the  collision  occurred  and  the  fog  which  caused  it.  and 
expound  the  set  of  the  tide  or  currents  which  made  it 

iSee  pp.  54,  96-97. 

211 


212  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

impossible  for  one  ship  to  keep  clear  of  the  other.  Thus 
narration,  description,  and  exposition  would  all  three  con- 
tribute to  the  force  of  his  argument. 

Lawyers'  arguments  are  in  large  part  expositions.  If 
a  lawyer  is  arguing  a  case  before  a  jury,  he  must  offer 
a  reasonable  and  probable  theory  which  will  explain  all 
the  facts  offered  in  evidence.  If  he  is  arguing  a  point  of 
law  before  the  judges,  he  tries  to  explain  the  law,  in  its 
relation  to  the  facts,  in  such  a  way  that  they  will  see  that 
the  right  is  on  his  side. 


"©* 


THE  PARTS  OF  AN  ARGUMENT 

An  argument  ordinarily  consists  of  three  parts,  —  the 
introduction,  the  body  of  the  argument,  and  the  conclusion. 
Each  of  these  will  be  fully  discussed  in  its  place ;  at 
present,  however,  we  must  rest  content  with  indicating 
their  main  purpose. 

The  introduction  should  state  the  point  at  issue  and  define  it 
accurately.  Confusion  or  lack  of  agreement  on  the  point  at 
issue  is  extremely  common  among  untrained  reasoners. 
We  have  all  heard  men  wrangle  endlessly  over  a  question 
when  it  was  clear  to  any  unprejudiced  listener  that  they 
were  really  talking  about  different  things.  "  Ignorance  of 
the  point"  makes  all  argument  futile.  There  can  be  no 
profitable  discussion  until  the  point  at  issue  is  cleared  up 
and  recognized  as  such  by  both  parties. 

Suppose  you  are  debating  the  proposition  "Manual 
training  should  be  introduced  into  all  the  grades  of  the 
public-school  system  in  this  town." 

It  is  at  once  evident  that  the  term  manual  training  is  open 
to  various  interpretations.  To  one  person  it  suggests  "sloyd" 
and  similar  exercises  ;  to  another  it  suggests  the  studies  taught  in 


THE  PARTS  OF  AN  ARGUMENT  213 

technical  schools  where  pupils  are  trained  to  become  engineers 
and  supervisors  of  mechanical  construction;  to  a  third,  the 
instruction  given  in  trade  schools;  a  fourth  wonders  if  you  have 
in  mind  the  instruction  of  girls  as  well  as  of  boys.  Before  you 
begin  to  argue,  you  must,  therefore,  define  the  term  so  clearly  that 
everybody  will  understand  the  precise  meaning  which  you  wish 
to  attach  to  it. 

But  the  necessity  for  precaution  does  not  end  here.  You  must 
take  pains  to  explain  that,  since  you  intend  to  use  the  term 
luminal  training  in,  let  us  say,  the  first  of  the  various  senses 
just  indicated,  you  will  purposely  disregard  certain  arguments 
which  might  properly  be  urged  against  the  practice  of  teaching 
trades  to  public-school  boys,  but  which  have  no  bearing  upon  the 
teaching  of  sloyd. 

Further,  manual  training,  in  even  your  sense  of  the  term,  may 
serve  various  purposes.  You  might  argue  that  skill  in  handling 
tools  is  of  great  practical  utility,  or  you  might  argue  that  practice 
in  the  use  of  tools  develops  certain  important  intellectual  and 
moral  faculties.  If  your  introduction  makes  it  clear  that  you 
intend  to  follow,  for  example,  the  second  of  these  possible  lines 
of  argument  and  to  ignore  the  first,  you  have  avoided  still  further 
the  danger  of  obscuring  the  main  issue  and  wasting  time  by  argu- 
ing beside  the  point. 

Asa  result  of  this  analysis,  —  this  definition  and  restric- 
tion and  exclusion,  —  your  original  proposition  narrows 
down  to  the  really  vital  consideration  upon  which  the 
entire  argument  directly  bears,  or,  in  other  words,  the 
point  at  issue.  The  process  by  which  the  point  at  issue  is 
determined  is  illustrated  by  the  specimen  introduction  to  a 
brief  on  pages  221-222.1  It  will  lie  observed  thai  sometimes, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  argument  in  favor  of  taxing  signs  and 
posters  (p.  256),  there  are  two  or  more  points  at  issue. 

In  defining  the  point  at  issue  a  survey  of  the  general 
subject  may  be  necessary.  The  introduction  is  also  the 
place   for   this.     In   any   case,   however,  the  preliminary 

1  For  further  illustrations  sec  pp.  L'4(.) -  l'.V.i. 


214  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

matter  should  be  as  brief  as  may  be,  consistently  with 
clearness  and  a  full  understanding  of  what  the  argument 
is  about. 

Having  determined  the  point  at  issue  and  made  it  plain 
that  the  decision  turns  on  that  point,  we  should  proceed  to 
the  body  of  the  argument.  This  should  contain  an  orderly 
statement  of  the  several  facts  or  considerations  on  which 
we  rely  to  prove  our  contention,  with  the  evidence  for 
each.  It  should  also  mention,  likewise  in  proper  order, 
such  arguments  against  our  view  as  we  think  it  wise  to 
notice,  with  their  refutation.  The  refutation  should  show" 
that  the  opposing  arguments  are  erroneous  or  unsupported 
by  evidence,  or  that  they  do  nut  apply  to  the  case  in  hand. 
Every  division  of  the  subject,  both  in  the  proof  and  in 
the  refutation,  should  be  clearly  indicated,  and  transition 
should  receive  particular  attention. 

Finally,  there  should  be  a  conclusion.  This  should  usually 
be  a  rapid  summing-up  of  the  points  that  have  been  made 
in  the  body  of  the  argument;  for  it  is  particularly  im- 
portant to  leave  these  firmly  fixed  in  the  hearer's  or 
reader's  mind.  The  conclusion,  like  the  introduction, 
should  be  as  brief  as  is  consistent  with  clearness. 

Note.  —  The  plan  described  above  is  intended  merely  as  a  general  out- 
line to  which  most  arguments  should  conform.  Special  circumstances  will 
of  course  require  this  plan  to  he  modified  in  different  ways  ;  for  arguments, 
like  other  kinds  of  writing,  differ  greatly  in  their  scope,  contents,  and 
arrangement.  Such  modifications  as  are  important  will  he  discussed  later, 
each  in  its  place. 

The  following  paragraph  from  Mr.  John  Morley's 
address  on  "  The  Study  of  Literature  "  affords  an  excellent 
illustration  of  argumentative  method  in  a  more  or  less 
informal  lecture.  We  have  first  an  introduction ;  then 
a  statement  of  the  proposition  (in  effect,  —  "Literature 


THE  PARTS   OF  AN   ARGUMENT  215 

is  necessary  in  modern  life");  then  a  short  proof;  then 
a  short  refutation ;  and  finally  a  conclusion  in  a  single 
sentence.1 

Next  to  this  we  know  that  there  is  a  great  stir  on  behalf  of 
technical  and  commercial  education.  The  special  needs  of  our 
time  and  country  compel  us  to  pay  a  particular  attention  to  this 
subject.  Here  knowledge  is  business,  and  we  shall  never  hold  our 
industrial  preeminence,  with  all  that  hangs  upon  that  preeminence, 
unless  we  push  on  technical  and  commercial  education  with  all 
our  might.  But  there  is  —  and  now  I  come  nearer  my  siibject — 
a  third  kind  of  knowledge  which,  too,  in  its  own  way  is  business. 
There  is  the  cultivation  of  the  sympathies  and  imagination,  the 
quickening  of  the  moral  sensibilities,  and  the  enlargement  of  the 
moral  vision.  The  great  need  in  modern  culture,  which  is  scien- 
tific in  method,  rationalistic  in  spirit,  and  utilitarian  in  purpose, 
is  to  find  some  effective  agency  for  cherishing  within  us  the  ideal. 
That  is,  I  take  it,  the  business  and  function  of  literature.  Litera- 
ture alone  will  not  make  a  good  citizen ;  it  will  not  make  a  good 
man.  History  affords  too  many  proofs  that  scholarship  and  learn- 
ing by  no  means  purge  "men  of  acrimony,  of  vanity,  of  arrogance, 
of  a  murderous  tenacity  about  trifles.  Mere  scholarship  and 
learning  and  the  knowledge  of  books  do  not  by  any  means  arrest 
and  dissolve  all  the  travelling  acids  of  the  human  system.  Nor 
would  I  pretend  for  a  moment  that  literature  can  be  a  substitute 
for  life  and  action.  Burke  said,  "  AVhat  is  the  education  of  the 
generality  of  the  world?  Reading  a  parcel  of  books?  No!  Re- 
straint and  discipline,  examples  of  virtue  and  justice,  these  are 
what  form  the  education  of  the  world."  That  is  profoundly  true  ; 
it  is  life  that  is  the  great  educator.  But  the  parcel  of  books,  if 
they  are  well  chosen,  reconcile  us  to  this  discipline;  tiny  interpret 
this  virtue  and  justice  ;  they  awaken  within  us  the  diviner  mind, 
and  rouse  us  to  a  consciousness  of  what  is  best  in  others  and 
ourselves. 

i  Tliis  paragraph  is  quoted,  uo1  Eor  purposes  of  dissection,  but  to  illus- 
trate tlie  tone  and  temper  of  easy  and  informal,  though  highly  finished, 
argumentative  writing.  The  author  lias  succeeded  in  making  Ins  point 
without  forcing  the  structure  of  Hi''  argument  on  the  Trader's  notice  The 
passage  is  forcible  ami  convincing,  without  being  controversial. 


216  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

THE  BEIEF  OF  AN  ABGUMENT 

Since  the  effect  of  au  argument  depends  largely  on 
skilful  marshalling  of  the  facts  and  thorough  analysis  of 
their  bearing  on  the  point  at  issue,  an  outline  (or  brief) 
should  generally  be  drawn  up  before  the  actual  compo- 
sition of  the  argument  is  begun. 

The  brief  should  contain,  hi  the  form  of  a  table,  a 
statement  of  the  points  which  you  intend  to  make, 
arranged  in  the  order  in  which  they  are  to  be  mentioned 
in  the  argument.  The  making  of  a  good  brief  is  more 
than  half  the  battle.  You  should  therefore  construct  your 
brief  carefully  and  revise  it  untiringly,  until  you  feel  sure 
that  it  includes,  in  outline,  everything  that  you  wish  to  say, 
and  that  the  several  points  are  arranged  in  the  best  order. 

The  following  example  shows  how  to  draw  up  a 
brief : *  — 

The  city  government  should  immediately  improve  the  condition 
of  our  streets. 

Introduction 

I.  Both  sides  admit  that  the  streets  of  this  city  are  not  properly 
maintained,  in  that 

A.  The  main  thoroughfares  are  not  paved. 

1.  As  a  result,  they  are  muddy  in  bad  weather. 

2.  They  are  rough  at  all  times. 

B.  The  gutters  are  choked  with  filth  and  rubbish. 

II.  Both  sides  admit  that  the  remedy  lies  in  the  hands  of  the 
mayor  and  city  council. 

A.  The  mayor  has  the  power  to  appoint  and  remove  the 

superintendent  of  streets. 

B.  The  council  has  power  to  appropriate  money  for  the  pur- 

pose. 

1  The  practical  suggestions  already  given  as  to  collecting  and  sifting 
material  and  preparing  outlines  for  exposition  apply  to  argument  also,  and 
need  not  be  repeated  here  (see  pp.  165-170). 


THE  BRIEF  OF   AN   ARGUMENT  217 

Brief  Proper 

The  city  government  should  take  immediate  action  in  the 
matter :  for 

Direct  Proof 

I.  The  present  condition  of  the  streets  hinders  and  obstructs 
business,  for 

A.  The  delivery  of  goods  to  citizens  is  slow  and  uncertain. 

(Cite  cases.) 

B.  The  business  of  merchants  is  hampered  by  the  uncer- 

tainty of  delivery.     (Cite  cases.) 

C.  Merchants  are  obliged  to  keep  extra  horses  and  to  pay 

out  large  sums  for  repairs  on  harnesses  and  wagons. 
II.  The  present  condition  of  the  streets  tends  to  keep  business 
away  from  the  city,  for 

A.  It  makes  the  citizens  seem  shiftless  and  unprogressive. 

B.  The  cost  of  hauling  goods  to  and  from  factories  is  excess- 

ive. 

Refutation 

III.  The  argument  that  the  city  cannot  afford  better  streets  is 
unsound ;  for 

A.  The  municipal  debt  is  not  large.    (Cite  figures.) 

B.  Expenses  may  be  reduced  by  economy  in  certain  depart- 

ments.   (Cite  examples.) 

C.  Money  thus  spent  will  save  money  to  every  one  and  will 

bring  new  business  to  the  town. 

D.  Neighboring  towns,  under  the  same  conditions,  have  good 

streets.    (Cite  examples.) 

Conclusion 

Since  the  present  condition  of  the  streets  adds  to  the  difficulty 
and  expense  of  conducting  business,  besides  tending  to  keep  new 
business  away  from  the  city,  and  since  it.  is  possible  to  provide 
money  for  the  immediate  improvement  of  the  streets,  the  city 
council  should  at  once  make  an  appropriation  for  this  purpose, 
and  the  mayor  should  see  that  the  superintendent  of  streets  does 
his  duty. 


218  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

In  a  brief,1  each  separate  point  in  the  introduction  and 
in  the  body  of  the  argument  should  be  stated  in  the  form 
of  a  sentence  (or  proposition).  The  advantage  of  this  method 
lies  in  the  greater  definiteness  of  the  sentence.  When 
we  make  a  statement,  we  are  more  likely  to  know  just 
what  we  mean  than  when  we  use  a  phrase.  "  The  streets 
need  cleaning "  is  far  more  distinct  than  "  Necessity  of 
cleaning  the  streets." 

The  several  points  should  be  numbered  and  lettered  as 
in  the  example,  the  principal  points  with  one  set  of  num- 
bers or  letters  and  the  subordinate  points  with  another  ; 
and  this  distinction  should  be  brought  out  still  further  by 
the  arrangement  of  the  lines  on  the  page.  Thus  the  brief, 
by  its  very  shape,  will  appeal  to  the  eye,  and  through  that 
to  the  mind. 

The  conclusion  in  the  brief  should  sum  up,  compactly 
and  clearly,  the  main  points.  It  may  often  consist  of  a 
single  long  sentence. 

INTRODUCTION  IN  ARGUMENT 

An  argument  needs  an  introduction,  in  order  that  the 
point  at  issue  may  be  clearly  defined,  beyond  the  possi- 
bility of  misapprehension. 

The  introduction  is,  of  course,  the  place  for  whatever  you 
see  fit  to  say  to  the  audience  before  you  actually  begin  to 
argue.  It  is  explanatory  in  its  nature,  and  should  there- 
fore be  constructed  according  to  the  principles  of  exposi- 
tion.   How  long  the  introduction  shall  be,  and  precisely 

1  For  other  specimen  briefs,  see  pp.  249-2.59.  For  an  exhaustive  disy 
cussion  of  the  making  of  briefs,  and  of  the  various  processes  and  aspects 
of  argumentation,  see  Baker's  "  Principles  of  Argumentation  "  (Ginn  & 
Company).  Lamont's  edition  of  Burke's  "  Speed i  on  Conciliation  with 
America  "  includes  a  careful  analysis  of  that  speech  in  the  form  of  a  brief. 


INTRODUCTION   Ifl   ARGUMENT  219 

what  shall  go  into  it,  will  naturally  depend  on  circum- 
stances and  on  the  nature  of  the  subject. 

1.  It  may  be  useful,  or  even  necessary,  to  give  a  short 
history  of  the  question  (as  in  the  illustration  on  page  221), 
—  to  tell  how  it  arose,  how  you  come  to  be  discussing  it, 
what  its  importance  is,  and  how  it  concerns  your  hearers. 
Such  preliminary  remarks  will  serve  to  rouse  the  attention 
of  your  audience,  —  to  bring  the  question  home  to  them. 
They  may  also  help  to  bring  out  the  point  at  issue  more 
clearly,  by  putting  the  whole  subject  in  its  proper  light 
and  showing  its  bearing  on  matters  of  which  your  hearers 
already  have  some  knowledge  and  in  which  they  feel  a  per- 
sonal interest.  If,  however,  your  hearers  are  well  informed 
on  the  general  subject  beforehand,  and  keenly  alive  to  its 
importance,  you  sin  add  not  weary  them  by  a  needless 
preamble. 

2.  The  introduction  is  also  the  place  for  the  statement 
of  admitted  facts.  Every  discussion  involves  certain  signifi- 
cant matters  of  fact  on  which  both  parties  are  agreed. 
These  your  hearers  must  have  in  mind  if  they  are  to 
follow  your  argument.  State  them,  therefore,  clearly  and 
concisely,  and  make  it  evident  that  they  are  not  disputed 
points. 

Here  you  will  have  to  make  a  selection  between  those 
facts  which  are  really  significant  and  those  which  are  not. 
Trivial  details,  and  matters  that  have  no  bearing  on  the 
question,  should  be  ignored.  Further,  you  must  distin- 
guish in  your  own  mind  between  such  facts  as  are  familiar 
to  your  audience  and  such  as  arc  probably  new  to  them. 
The  former  need  only  be  stated;  the  Latter  may  require 
to  be  dwelt  on  or  explained,  Finally,  yon  should  take  care 
not  to  bring  forward  as  an  admitted  fact  anything  that 
your  opponent  is  likely  to  dispute. 


220  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

3.  If  there  are  any  terms  used  in  the  proposition,  or 
likely  to  be  much  used  in  the  argument,  which  need  defini- 
tion, they  should,  if  possible,  have  their  meaning  settled  in 
the  introduction.  Otherwise  the  point  at  issue  will  be 
uncertain,  and  the  whole  discussion  may  come  to  nothing. 
It  is  useless  to  argue  unless  both  sides  know  exactly  what 
they  are  arguing  about. 

Many  terms  which  seem  on  their  face  to  be  precise 
enough,  are  really  too  vague  or  uncertain  to  be  usable  in 
argument.  For  example,  hi  the  proposition,  "  Eesponsible 
government  would  be  advantageous  for  Russia,"  the  term 
"  responsible  government "  is  ambiguous.  Does  it  mean  a 
ministry  responsible  to  the  legislature,  like  the  British 
ministry,  or  a  mhiistry  responsible  to  the  emperor,  as  in 
Germany  ?  Until  it  is  settled  which  of  these  two  senses 
the  term  is  to  have,  there  can  be  no  intelligent  argument 
on  the  proposition.  In  such  a  case,  the  definition  of  the 
term  is  necessary  to  a  clear  understanding  of  the  point 
at  issue. 

Other  examples  of  terms  which  are  likely  to  need  definition 
or  limitation,  are  monarchy,  republic,  aristocracy,  monopoly,  (rust, 
socialism,  imperialism,  temperance,  tariff  reform,  protection,  liberal 
education,  —  each  of  which  conveys  different  ideas  to  different 
persons. 

4.  The  introduction  should  contain  a  statement  of  the 
proposition  and  usually  of  the  side  of  the  case  which  you 
intend  to  support.  At  the  end  of  the  introduction  you 
will  naturally  state  the  point  at  issue,  for  your  audience 
must  have  it  clearly  in  mind  when  your  real  argu- 
ment begins. 

5.  Finally,  you  may  need  a  special  paragraph,  after 
you  have  stated  or  restated  the  proposition,  in  which  to 
set  forth  briefly  the  plan  which  you  mean  to  follow  in  the 


INTRODUCTION  IN   ARGUMENT  221 

argument,  —  the  main  divisions  of  your  case,  or  the  several 
kinds  of  proof  which  you  intend  to  bring  to  its  support. 

In  general,  remember  that  the  essential  thing  in  an  intro- 
duction is  to  state  the  point  at  issue  and  to  define  it  accurately, 
so  that  there  can  be  no  possible  doubt  just  what  you  are  trying 
to  prove.  There  should  be  no  argumentative  matter  in  the 
introduction. 

The  following  specimen  of  the  brief  of  an  introduction 
illustrates  the  structure  of  this  part  of  an  argument :  — 

Manual  training  should  be  introduced  into  all  the  grades  of  the 
public-school  system  of  this  town  and  maintained  as  a  part  of  the 
regular  course  of  study. 

Introduction 

I.  The  question  has  arisen  from  the  following  considerations  : 

A.  During  the  past  thirty  years  there  has  gradually  devel- 

oped in  the  United  States  a  sentiment  in  favor  of 
systematic  training  for  the  young  in  the  mechanic 
arts.  This  sentiment  appears  to  have  originated  in  the 
favorable  impression  made  by  the  industrial  exhibits 
of  certain  European  schools  at  the  Centennial  Expo- 
sition in  1876,  and  to  have  been  fostered  by  a  growing 
realization  of  the  loss  to  education  which  has  resulted 
from  the  abandonment  in  this  country  of  the  system 
of  trade  apprenticeship  by  indenture.  In  the  last  five 
or  six  years  this  sentiment  has  become  such  a  wide- 
spread conviction,  that  more  than  two-thirds  of  the 
towns  in  the  United  States  having  a  population  of 
8000  or  over  now  give  manual  training  a  place  in  some 
part  of  the  school  system  * 

B.  The  citizens  of  any  prosperous  town,  such  as  ours,  which 

has  not  yet  introduced  this  subject  into  the  public 
schools,  ought  carefully  to  investigate  the  alleged  advan- 
tages of  manual  training,  then,  with  a  view  to  the  pos- 
sible improvement  of  their  own  school  system. 

1  Report  of  the  U.  S.  Commissioner  of  Education  for  I'.XH. 


222  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

II.  The  term  "manual  training"  requires  definition. 

In  order  to  narrow  the  discussion  we  shall  consider  only 
the  needs  of  boys,  although  the  greater  part  of  our  argu- 
ment would  apply  equally  well  to  the  needs  of  girls.  By 
"  manual  training  "  we  mean  instruction  in  wood-working, 
metal-working,  or  leather-working,  together  with  other 
simple  mechanical  arts  requiring  some  dexterity  (such  as 
basket-weaving),  adapted  to  the  ability  of  boys  attending 
the  various  grades  of  the  public  schools,  from  the  lowest 
to  the  highest. 

III.  In  arguing  for  the  introduction  of  manual  training,  we  shall 

have  in  mind  only  one  of  the  various  purposes  which  such 
training  might  serve,  i.e.  the  so-called  "cultural"  pur- 
pose—  the  development  of  certain  important  intellectual 
and  moral  faculties. 

IV.  We  shall  exclude  from  this  discussion,  then,  any  considera- 

tion of  so-called  trade-schools  or  technical  schools,  main- 
tained as  separate  institutions  for  the  training  of  engineers 
or  artisans. 
V.  We  shall  not  urge  the  practical  advantage  of  knowing  how 
to  use  common  tools,  though  even  our  opponents  will  admit 
the  usefulness  of  this  accomplishment. 

VI.  Some  of  the  commonest  arguments  against  manual  training, 

which  are  based  upon  the  idea  that  its  primary  object  is 
to  teach  a  boy  a  trade  by  means  of  which  he  may  obtain 
a  livelihood,  are  accordingly  ruled  out  as  extraneous. 
Such  objections  are  the  following  :  — 

A.  The  public  schools  should  devote  themselves  exclusively 

to  a  type  of  education  which  broadens  the  mind  and 
develops  the  reasoning  powers  —  not  to  the  training 
of  mechanics. 

B.  The  introduction  of  manual  training  forces  the  child  to 

choose  a  trade  or  a  definite  field  of  labor  when  he  is 
too  young  to  make  such  a  choice  wisely. 

C.  By  teaching  a  trade,  manual  training  commits  the  child 

to  the  career  of  a  mechanic  and  thus  discourages  him 
from  trying  to  follow  a  profession. 

VII.  The  point  at  issue  is,  therefore :  Does  a  proper  regard  for 

the  intellectual  and  moral  welfare  of  the  boys  attend- 
ing the  public  schools  in  this  town  make  it  imperative  that 


THE  BODY  OF  AN  ARGUMENT  223 

the  subjects  at  present  taught  should  be  supplemented, 
throughout  all  the  grades,  by  instruction  in  wood-working, 
metal-working,  and  similar  mechanic  arts? 


THE  BODY  OF  AX  ARGUMENT 

The  order  in  which  the  points  are  to  be  taken  up  in 
the  body  of  the  argument  must  be  settled  with  care  in  mak- 
ing the  brief.  This  order  should  be,  so  far  as  possible,  that 
of  the  climax,  —  that  is,  the  points  should  be  arranged  in 
the  order  of  their  strength  or  importance,  ending  with  the 
strongest.  The  reason  for  such  an  arrangement  is  clear 
enough.  One  should  not  imitate  the  lawyer  who  said: 
"And  now,  having  shown  that  the  arguments  of  the 
opposing  counsel  are  impossible,  I  shall  proceed  to  show 
that  they  are  likewise  extremely  improbable."  When  the 
nature  of  the  proof  makes  an  exact  climax  impracticable 
(when,  for  instance,  several  points  are  of  equal  weight), 
one  should  still  take  care  to  end  with  one  of  the  strongest 
points  and  to  give  it  due  emphasis.1 

Each  point  should  be  treated  by  itself,  and  should  be  so 
introduced  and  explained  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  about 
its  meaning  or  its  bearing  on  the  case.  The  paragraphs 
should  be  firmly  constructed,  and  the  beginning  and  the 
end  of  each  should  be  well  marked. 

The  transition  from  point  to  point  should  be  emphasized, 
in  order  that  your  readers  or  hearers  may  sec  instantly 
when  you  pass  on  from  one  to  another.    In  this  way  they 

1  There  is  do  universal  rule  of  arrangement  for  the  body  of  an  argu- 
ment. Sometimes  it,  is  wise  to  begin  with  a  particularly  strong  or  telling 
point,  especially  when  the  audience  is  indifferent  or  hostile.    Such  a  point, 

however,  should  nol  be  immediately  followed  by  < thai  is  noticeably 

weaker,  or  the  speaker  maj  lose  more  than  he  gains.  If  the  whole  argu- 
ment cannol  be  arranged  on  the  principal  of  the  climax,  the  lasl  three  or 
lour  points  may  !><•  so  arranged.  In  any  case,  the  summing  up  in  the  con- 
clnsion  may  observe  this  principle. 


224  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

will  be  able  to  keep  the  different  points  separate  in  their 
minds  and  will  therefore  understand  their  force  more 
clearly  and  remember  them  better.  Neglect  of  transition 
is  sure  to  confuse  your  audience,  and  thus  they  may  miss 
some  of  your  most  important  reasoning.1 

In  an  argument  of  any  length,  each  of  the  main  points 
may  have  to  be  divided  into  several  subordinate  points 
(as  shown  in  the  briefs,  pp.  217,  249).  In  this  case,  you 
should  take  the  utmost  care  to  keep  the  structure  of  the 
argument  clearly  before  the  reader's  mind.  You  have  to 
deal  not  only  with  single  paragraphs  that  are  units,  but 
with  the  grouping  of  those  paragraphs  into  larger  divi- 
sions which  shall  also  be  units.  Using  your  brief  as  a 
guide,  you  should  keep  the  subordinate  points  distinct 
from  each  other,  and  should  show,  by  firmly  compacted 
paragraphs  and  by  transition,  their  relation  to  each  other 
and  to  the  main  point  under  which  they  come. 

The  beginning  and  the  end  of  each  of  the  larger  divi- 
sions of  your  argument  should  be  plainly  indicated.  With 
this  in  view,  you  may  perhaps  find  it  necessary,  when 
taking  up  one  of  your  main  points,  to  mention  the  divi- 
sions you  intend  to  make.  So,  when  you  are  about  to  pass 
from  one  of  these  divisions  to  the  next,  you  will  often 
find  it  necessary  to  sum  up  what  you  have  said,  in  order 
that  the  several  subordinate  points  under  that  head  may 
be  clearly  in  the  reader's  mind  before  you  go  on  to  the 
next  head. 

One  of  the  important  points  in  Burke's  "  Speech  on  Concilia- 
tion" is  the  Spirit  of  Liberty  in  America.2  He  introduces  this 
point  by  a  paragraph  emphasizing  the  existence  of  this  spirit  and 
stating  that  it  has  several  causes,  which  he  intends  to  set  forth. 

1  For  methods  of  transition,  see  pp.  285  ff. 

2  See  Lamont's  edition,  pp.  19  ff. 


THREE  KINDS  OF  ARGUMENT  225 

He  then  enumerates  and  explains  these  causes,  devoting  a  para- 
graph or  two  to  each.  Then,  in  a  single  short  paragraph,  he  sums 
up  what  he  has  said  on  this  topic  as  follows  :  — 

Then,  sir,  from  these  six  capital  sources  :  of  descent,  of  form 
of  government,  of  religion  in  the  northern  provinces,  of  manners 
in  the  southern,  of  education,  of  the  remoteness  of  situation  from 
the  first  mover  of  government,  —  from  all  these  causes  a  fierce 
spirit  of  liberty  has  grown  up.  It  has  grown  with  the  growth  of 
the  people  in  your  colonies,  and  increased  with  the  increase  of 
their  wealth  :  a  spirit  that,  unhappily  meeting  with  an  exercise 
of  pow:er  in  England  which,  however  lawful,  is  not  reconcilable 
to  any  ideas  of  liberty,  much  less  with  theirs,  has  kindled  this 
flame  that  is  ready  to  consume  us. 

The  place  of  the  refutation  in  the  body  of  the  argument 
will  depend  on  the  nature  of  the  question,  on  the  character 
of  the  evidence,  and  on  circumstances.  We  shall  therefore 
discuss  tins  subject  in  a  special  section  (p.  237,  below). 

Each  point  in  the  argument  should  be  supported  by- 
proof,  that  is,  by  facts  or  considerations  which  shall  tend 
to  convince  the  reader  of  its  truth. 

The  nature  of  the  proof  will  of  course  depend  on  the 
nature  of  the  point  at  issue  and  on  particular  circum- 
stances. It  will  not  lie  the  same  for  every  kind  of  ques- 
tion. Therefore,  to  understand  the  various  kinds  of  proof, 
we  must  discuss  the  main  classes  of  arguments. 

THREE    KINDS   OF    ARGUMENT  ^■fc 

Arguments   may  be    divided  into  three  main  classes,  ^^ 
according  to  the  nature  of  the  questions  with   which  they 
deal:   (1)  arguments  of  fact,  (2)  arguments  of  theory  or  prin- 
ciple, and  (3)  arguments  of  policy. 

I.  An  argument  of  fact  aims  to  establish  or  disprove  an 
assertion  as  to  a  definite  occurrence  or  state  of  things. 


226  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

Thus   the  following  propositions  might  be    argued,   pro 
and  con,  as  questions  of  concrete  fact :  — 

The  Allerton  Bank  was  robbed  by  Thomas  Ackers  on  March 
3,  1906. 

King  Alfred  was  born  in  the  year  848. 

The  Trojan  War  actually  took  place. 

Richard  Roe  paid  John  Doe  five  hundred  dollars  on  the  tenth 
of  last  April. 

Gunpowder  was  invented  by  the  Chinese. 

An  argument  of  fact  is  commonly  addressed  to  persons 
who  are  assumed  to  be  impartial.  It  appeals  to  their 
reason  and  common  sense,  not  to  their  interests  or  preju- 
dices. It  deals  with  concrete  questions  of  human  knowl- 
edge and  experience,  which,  if  there  is  evidence  enough 
available,  may  always  be  determined  beyond  a  reasonable 
doubt. 

II.  An  argument  of  theory  or  principle,  like  an  argument 
of  fact,  is  addressed  to  the  reason  of  its  audience  and  not 
to  their  feelings  or  interests.  Unlike  an  argument  of  fact, 
however,  it  aims  to  establish  or  disprove,  not  a  concrete 
matter  of  human  experience,  but  either  a  general  law  or 
principle  which  explains  a  large  body  of  isolated  facts,  or 
the  applicability  of  such  a  law  or  principle  to  the  facts  in 
question.    Propositions  of  this  kind  are  the  following :  ■ — 

The  earth  and  the  other  planets  revolve  round  the  sun  as  a 
centre.    (The  Copernican  System  of  astronomy.) 

The  sun  and  the  planets  revolve  round  the  earth  as  a  centre. 
(The  Ptolemaic  System  of  astronomy.) 

Matter  consists  of  molecules  which  are  composed  of  atoms. 

The  change  of  seasons  depends  on  the  inclination  of  the  earth. 

All  questions  of  scientific  and  philosophical  theory  come 
under  this  same  head,  and  so  do  questions  involving  the 
applicability  of  some  legal  principle  to  an  admitted  body 


ARGUMENTS   OF   FACT  227 

of  facts.     Arguments  of  theory,  however  abundant  the 

evidence,  are  seldom  capable  of  deciding  the  question 
beyond  the  possibility  of  doubt.  At  times,  however,  so 
strong  a  probability  may  be  established  on  one  side  or 
the  other  that  sensible  men  regard  the  discussion  as  defi- 
nitely settled.  In  legal  questions,  the  final  determination 
is  made  by  the  highest  court. 

III.  An  argument  of  policy  differs  from  an  argument  of 
fact  or  of  theory  in  that  it  aims,  not  to  establish  or  dis- 
prove a  fact  or  a  principle,  but  to  persuade  the  person  to 
whom 'it  is  addressed  to  act  in  accordance  with  the  belief 
or  the  wishes  of  the  speaker  or  writer. 

The  following  are  examples  of  questions  which  might 
produce  such  arguments  :  — 

Shajl  the  United  Street  Railway  Company  receive  permission 
to  lay  a  double  track  in  Preston  Avenue  ? 

Shall  the  practice  of  coaching  from  the  side-lines  be  forbidden 
in  amateur  baseball? 

Shall  the  law  protecting  song  birds  be  strictly  enforced? 

Shall  the  United  States  withdraw  from  the  Philippine  Islands? 

Having  briefly  defined  and  illustrated  these  three  classes 
of  arguments,  we  shall  now  take  up  each  class  separately 
in  greater  detail  and  with  special  reference  to  the  kind  of 
proof  which  may  be  offered  in  each. 

••^ 
AEG b. Mi: NTS   OF  FACT  /. 

An  argument  of  fact,  as  we  have  seen,  usually  aims  to 
prove  that  a  definite  occurrence  did  or  did  not  take  place, 
and  this  it  can  do  only  by  citing  other  facts  as  proof.  In 
such  cases,  it  is  often  possible  to  reach  a  conclusion  with 
which  a  reasonable  man  cannot  disagree,  and  this  would 


228  COMPOSITION  AND  EHETOPJC 

always  be  possible  if  all  the  facts  could  be  discovered.    In 
other  words,  arguments  of  fact  are  based  on  evidence. 
Evidence  may  be  either  direct  or  indirect. 

If  a  man  is  arrested  for  attempting  to  rob  a  bank,  the  testimony 
of  a  policeman  that  he  caught  him  drilling  holes  in  the  safe  is 
direct  evidence.  The  fact  that  the  defendant  was  seen  to  run  from 
the  building,  that  the  safe  was  blown  open,  and  that  near  it  lay  a 
coat  belonging  to  the  defendant  is  indirect  (or  circumstantial) 
evidence. 

Direct  evidence  is  not  always  conclusive.  In  the  case 
of  the  bank  robbery,  for  example,  the  policeman's  testi- 
mony might  be  discredited,  if  it  could  be  shown  that 
he  was  a  notorious  liar  or  that  he  owed  the  defendant  a 
grudge.  If  a  witness  is  to  be  believed,  he  must  have  a 
good  reputation  for  veracity  and  must  be  unprejudiced. 
So,  too,  a  witness  may  be  too  stupid  to  observe  accurately, 
or  to  remember  distinctly  what  he  has  observed.  When, 
as  often  happens,  two  witnesses  contradict  each  other,  the 
jury  has  to  decide  winch  of  them  is  telling  the  truth. 
If  direct  evidence  is  of  a  documentary  nature,  its  force 
would  be  destroyed  by  showing  that  the  letter  or  paper  in 
question  is  a  forgery. 

In  an  argument  which  draws  its  evidence  from  books, 
the  authors  cited  should  be  such  as  have  a  good  reputation 
for  fair-mindedness  and  accuracy,  as  well  as  for  knowledge 
of  the  subject.  A  violent  partisan,  however  honest  his 
intentions,  cannot  be  expected  to  write  an  impartial 
history ;  his  prejudices  will  inevitably  lead  him  to  color 
and  misinterpret  the  facts,  even  when  he  does  not  actually 
distort  them. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  word  of  a  liar  may  be  taken  if 
he  is  testifying  against  his  own  interests;  and,  in  like 
manner,  the  statements  of  a  prejudiced  writer  will  have 


ARGUMENTS  OF   FACT  229 

• 

great  weight  when  he  records  facts  that  are  to  the  dis- 
advantage of  his  own  party  or  to  the  advantage  of  the 
opposite  side. 

Where  direct  evidence  is  not  attainable  or  is  insufficient, 
we  must  fall  back  on  indirect  or  circumstantial  evidence ; 
and  if  there  is  enough  of  this  we  may  reach  as  great  cer- 
tainty as  if  we  had  direct  evidence. 

Indirect  evidence  may  tend  to  establish  a  fact  either 
(1)  by  antecedent  probability  or  (2)  by  sign. 

1.  An  argument  from  antecedent  probability1  depends  on 
facts  which  tend  to  show  that  the  occurrence  in  question 
was  likely  to  happen. 

Thus,  the  fact  that  a  man  was  a  professional  burglar  might 
tend  to  make  it  probable  that  lie  had  committed  a  particular 
burglary;  so  also  his  possession  of  burglar's  tools  and  his  being 
in  great  need  of  money. 

In  Macaulay's  attempt  to  prove  that  the  "  Letters  of  Junius  " 
were  written  by  Sir  Philip  Francis,  he  shows  that  both  Junius 
and  Francis  resented  the  appointment  of  Chamier  and  that  both 
were  bound  by  a  strong  tie  to  Lord  Holland.  These  are  arguments 
from  antecedent  probability,  for  they  tend  to  make  it  probable 
that  Francis  would  have  expressed  himself  as  Junius  did. 

In  the  famous  case  of  Aaron  Burr,  the  fact  that  Burr's  for- 
tune was  involved  and  his  political  prospects  destroyed  tended  to 
prove  that  he  was  likely  to  commit  treasonable  acts  in  the  hope 
of  improving  his  condition. 

All  argument  from  antecedent  probability  must  always 
be  supported  by  other  evidence.  In  itself,  no  matter  how 
strong  a  probability  it  establishes,  it  is  not  sufficient  to 
make  a  proof. 

Thus,  in  the  Junius  case,  Francis  was  not  the  only  English- 
man who  resented  Chamier's  appointment  and  who  was  bound  by 
strong  ties  to  Lord  Holland.    Similarly,  —  to  pass  fco  Burr's  case, — 

1  Called  also  an  "  ar^uiiienl  <i  priori." 


230  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

everybody  knows  that  a  ruined  politician  does  not  necessarily,  or 
even  usually,  plot  treason  to  retrieve  his  fortunes.  And,  even  when 
the  probability  that  a  man  would  act  in  a  certain  way  under  given 
circumstances  is  very  strong,  still  it  never  amounts  to  a  certainty ; 
for  men  do  not  always  act  as  we  should  think  they  would. 

2.  An  argument  from  sign  is  based  on  facts  which  indi- 
cate that  the  occurrence  did  actually  happen  in  the 
manner  alleged. 

Thus,  in  a  case  of  bank  robbery,  evidence  that  the  prisoner  was 
seen  running  away  from  the  building  and  that  his  coat  was  found 
near  the  broken  safe  would  be  grounds  for  an  argument  from  sign  ; 
for  such  facts  point  to  his  being  the  robber. 

In  the  Junius  case,  Macaulay's  first  three  "  marks  "  —  that  both 
Junius  and  Francis  were  well  acquainted  with  the  technical  forms 
of  the  Secretary  of  State's  office,  with  the  business  of  the  War 
Office,  and  with  the  debates  in  the  House  of  Lords  —  are  argu- 
ments from  sign. 

So,  in  a  certain  murder  case,  the  fact  that  a  knife  which  would 
fit  the  wounds  was  found,  along  with  property  belonging  to  the 
victim,  in  the  possession  of  the  defendant,  and  the  fact  that  it  had 
been  broken,  and  partly  defaced  by  filing,  were  arguments  from 
sign,  since  they  were  circumstances  that  indicated  that  he  was 
the  murderer. 

Circumstantial  evidence,  if  there  is  enough  of  it,  may 
establish  a  practically  conclusive  proof.  For,  though  each 
circumstance,  taken  singly,  may  perhaps  be  interpreted  in 
two  or  three  ways,  yet  the  whole  chain  of  circumstances, 
taken  together,  may  admit  of  but  one  reasonable  explana- 
tion. The  effective  use  of  such  evidence  in  an  argument 
depends,  therefore,  on  the  skill  with  which  the  separate 
facts  are  combined  and  arranged  so  as  to  bring  out  their 
probable  significance  as  a  whole. 

The  facts  which  are  used  as  circumstantial  evidence  — 
like  those   which  constitute  direct  evidence  —  must  be 


ARGUMENTS  OF  THEORY  OR  PRINCIPLE      231 

proved  by  testimony ;  and  what  has  already  been  said  of 
the  credibility  of  witnesses  (p.  228)  applies  to  evidence 
of  both  kinds. 


ARGUMENTS  OF  THEORY  OR  PRINCIPLE 

Arguments  of  theory  or  principle  aim  to  establish  the  best 
explanation  of  great  masses  of  facts ;  or,  if  the  principle 
is  already  known,  to  show  that  a  given  case  comes  under 
that  principle.  Such  an  argument  may  closely  resemble 
an  exposition ;  for,  to  establish  the  theory,  or  to  decide  on 
the  principle  that  applies,  we  must  canvass  all  the  relevant 
facts  and  show  that  they  are  satisfactorily  explained  and 
harmonized  by  the  theory. 

Questions  of  scientific  theory  come  under  this  head,  for 
such  a  theory  professes  to  afford  the  best  explanation  pos- 
sible at  the  time  for  all  known  facts  bearing  on  the  sub- 
ject under  discussion.  Since  new  facts  are  always  being 
discovered,  new  theories  must  continually  be  formed,  and 
each  generation  of  scientific  men  must  deal  with  a  new 
set  of  arguments.  The  discovery  of  radium  and  its  won- 
derful properties  has  upset  many  theories  which  were  sup- 
posed to  be  ultimate  truths  of  nature.  Still,  in  every 
department  of  science  there  are  certain  theories  which 
explain  so  large  a  proportion  of  the  phenomena  that  they 
are  accepted  as  true  and  confidently  used  as  the  basis  for 
further  investigation.  Such  a  theory  is  the  Copernican 
theory  of  astronomy.  Nobody  knoivs  that  it  is  true;  but 
it  passes  for  an  established  fact. 

Arguments  of  theory  are  necessary  at  every  new  step 
in  science;  for  scientific  progress  consists  not  merely  in 
discovering  and  recording  facts,  but  in  offering  an  ade- 
quate explanation  for  them. 


232  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

Such  an  argument  on  a  scientific  question  usually  begins 
by  showing  that  the  theory  now  accepted  either  leaves 
unexplained  certain  facts  already  known,  or  that  certain 
new  facts  can  find  no  place  under  it. 

A  case  in  point  is  Agassiz's  theory  that  great  continental 
glaciers  extended,  in  a  former  age,  far  south  over  both  Europe 
and  America.  Before  Agassiz  propounded  this  theory,  the  occur- 
rence of  boulders,  and  of  scratches  on  the  rounded  surfaces  of 
ledges,  was  ascribed  to  the  action  of  icebergs  carrying  rocks,  and 
it  was  assumed  that  the  regions  where  these  phenomena  had  been 
observed  were  once  covered  by  the  sea.  Agassiz  pointed  out  that 
the  same  phenomena  are  to  be  seen  in  Switzerland,  where  glaciers 
are  still  active,  and  where  the  iceberg  theory  can  hardly  apply. 
He  showed  further  that  the  hills  and  fields  of  gravel  found  in  the 
same  regions  as  the  boulders  and  rock  scratches  could  also  be  ex- 
plained as  the  moraines  or  debris  heaps  of  former  glaciers.  Thus 
he  brought  together  new  facts  which  made  a  new  theory  necessary. 

In  arguments  on  scientific  theory,  it  is  often  necessary, 
either  at  the  outset  or  in  the  course  of  the  discussion,  to 
prove  that  certain  "  facts  "  on  which  former  theories  have 
relied  are  not  facts  but  mistakes.  Thus  an  argument  of 
fact  (p.  227)  may  be  combined  with  an  argument  of  theory. 

When  a  body  of  facts  may  be  explained  by  either  of 
two  scientific  theories,  that  one  which  accounts  for  them 
in  the  simpler  and  more  reasonable  way  is  preferred. 

Thus,  the  Ptolemaic  theory  of  astronomy  (which  held  that  the 
earth  is  the  centre  of  our  system)  and  the  Copernican  theory 
(which  held  that  the  sun  is  the  centre)  both  accounted  for  the 
motions  of  the  heavenly  bodies.  The  Copernican  theory,  however, 
provided  a  far  simpler  explanation  than  the  Ptolemaic,  and  has 
accordingly  been  universally  accepted. 

Arguments  on  questions  of  law  before  a  judge  are  argu- 
ments of  theory  ;  for  the  facts  are  already  established,  and 
the  question  is,  "  What  principle  of  law  applies  to  them  ? " 


ARGUMENTS  OF   POLICY  233 

In  the  nineteenth  century,  the  courts  of  New  Hampshire  were 
required  to  pass  upon  the  right  of  a  mill  owner  to  erect  a  dam 
and  thus  to  flow  lands  bordering  on  a  pond  or  river.  The  case 
had  to  be  decided  on  one  of  two  principles.  On  the  one  hand, 
there  was  the  right  of  every  man  to  control  and  protect  his  own 
property;  on  the  other,  the  "right  of  eminent  domain,"  by  which 
the  state,  whenever  the  maintenance  of  the  right  of  private  prop- 
erty interferes  with  improvements  of  marked  public  benefit,  steps 
in.  and,  with  due  compensation,  overrules  the  claims  of  the  private 
owner.  The  court  decided  that,  since  the  interests  of  the  com- 
munity called  for  the  building  of  dams  and  mills,  the  right  of 
the  shore  owners  to  keep  their  fields  unflooded  must  give  way. 
Here  all  the  facts  were  agreed  upon,  and  the  arguments  dealt 
merely  with  the  question  which  principle  of  law  was  applicable 
to  them. 

ARGUMENTS  OF  POLICY 

An  argument  of  policy,  as  we  have  seen  (p.  227),  aims  to 
persuade  those  to  whom  it  is  addressed  to  act  in  accord- 
ance with  the  belief  or  the  wishes  of  the  speaker  or  writer. 

Note.  —  It  is  also  an  argument  of  policy  when  we  try  to  settle  the 
question  whether  certain  acts  in  the  past  were  right  or  expedient.  Thus 
Macaulay,  in  his  "Essay  on  Milton,"  enters  into  a  long  argument  on 
Milton's  political  conduct.  "  The  public,  conduct  of  Milton,"  he  says, 
"  must  be  approved  or  condemned  according  as  the  resistance  of  the 
people  to  Charles  the  First  shall  appear  to  be  justifiable  or  criminal."  An 
argument  of  this  kind  differs  from  ordinary  arguments  of  policy  in  one 
point  alone  :  it  does  not  aim  to  induce  anybody  to  act  in  accordance  with 
our  belief  or  wishes. 

The  argument  of  policy  is  the  commonest  of  the  three 
classes  of  argument.  Every  one  of  us  is  continually  called 
upon  to  decide,  for  himself  or  with  others,  the  question 
whether  it  is  right  or  expedient  to  perform  a  given  act. 
On  sneli  oeeasions,  we  always  weigh  the  pros  and  cons 
and  thus,  whether  we  know  it  or  not,  engage  in  an  argu- 
ment of  policy.    Almost  as  frequently  we  try  to  persuade 


234  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

some  one  else  to  agree  with  us,  and  thus  the  argument 
takes  definite  form. 

Arguments  of  policy  may  be  conveniently  divided  into 
two  classes,  according  as  they  address  themselves  to  the 
question  "  Is  it  right?"  or  the  question  "  Is  it  expedient?" 

In  a  question  of  what  is  right,  the  argument  must  detach 
the  case  from  the  complexities  and  irrelevant  details  that 
obscure- the  real  issue.  It  must  often  put  aside  all  con- 
sideration of  loss  or  hardship  to  individuals  and  apply 
itself  to  proving  that  one  course  of  action  is  morally  right, 
and  that  the  other  is  morally  wrong.  When  this  moral 
question  is  settled,  the  argument  is  practically  complete. 
It  needs  only  a  conclusion  appealing  to  the  hearer's 
conscience. 

In  a  question  of  mere  expediency,  we  assume  that  both 
courses  of  action  are  right  and  maintain  merely  that  one 
of  them  is  more  advantageous  than  the  other.  Here  we 
must  consider  what  personal  interests  are  involved.  We 
must  show  our  hearers  that  the  decision  which  we  favor 
will  work  to  their  advantage,  —  that  they  will  be  better 
off,  in  some  way,  if  they  join  our  side  or  act  as  we  wish 
them  to  act. 

Thus  Burke,  in  arguing  against  the  taxation  of  the  American 
colonies  by  Parliament,  urged  that  —  whether  it  was  right  to  tax 
them  or  not  —  it  was  inexpedient,  since  more  money  could  be  got 
out  of  them  by  free  grant  than  by  parliamentary  taxation.1 

Again,  the  advocates  of  municipal  ownership  of  waterworks 
and  electric  light  plants,  urge  that  in  this  way  the  community 
will  turn  to  public  uses  the  profits  which  now  go  to  private  com- 
panies ;  and  also  that  the  service  will  probably  be  improved.  The 
opponents  of  municipal  ownership  urge  that  the  public  will  suffer 
by  the  probable  entrance  of  politics  into   such   business,   since 

1  "  Speech  on  Conciliation  with  America,"  Lamont's  edition,  pp.  5-1-57. 
Burke  is  here  concerned  rather  with  legal  than  with  moral  right. 


ARGUMENTS  OF    POLICY  235 

experience  has  shown  that  in  many  of  our  large  cities  municipal 
government  has  been  corrupt  and  extravagant.  Thus  they  hold 
that  in  the  end  the  public  would  pay  more  and  be  worse  served 
than  under  private  ownership.  Neither  party  holds  thai  either 
kind  of  ownership  is  wrong  in  itself. 

In  practical  affairs,  these  two  classes  of  arguments  of 
policy  are  often  combined.  Thus  Burke,  in  his  "Speech 
on  Conciliation,"  undertook  to  prove  that  a  certain  course 
of  action  towards  the  colonies  was  for  the  advantage  of  the 
whole  British  Empire, — in  other  words,  that  it  was  expedi- 
ent. But  his  argument  was  at  the  same  time  an  appeal  to  the 
conscience  of  his  hearers,  since  it  was  plainly  the  duty  of 
Parliament  to  adopt  his  policy  if  it  was  really  advantageous. 

Again,  an  appeal  to  duty  may  often  he  strengthened 
by  showing  that  the  action  urged  is  likewise  expedient. 
Theoretically,  when  a  man  is  once  convinced  that  he 
ought  to  do  a  certain  thing,  he  should  go  about  it  without 
demur.  In  real  life,  however,  we  often  need  to  he  per- 
suaded that  it  will  be  for  our  advantage  to  do  our  duty. 
And  in  any  mixed  assembly  there  are  all  grades  of 
consciences,  —  some  of  the  members  will  be  more  influ- 
enced by  considerations  of  duty,  some  by  considerations  of 
expediency.  It  is  always  proper,  in  such  cases,  to  show,  if 
we  can,  that  the  policy  which  we  are  urging  is  both  right 
and  expedient. 

Thus  arguments  in  favor  of  regulating  or  prohibiting  by  law 
the  labor  of  young  children  in  factories,  undertake  to  show  not 
only  that  it  is  inexpedient  for  the  state  to  let  its  future  citizens 
be  stunted  in  mind  and  body,  but  also  thai  it  is  morally  wrong  to 
allow  them  to  be  deprived  of  the  opportunities  for  due  mental  and 
physical  development.  So  again,  arguments  concerning  the  policy 
of  this  country  in  dealing  with  Porto  Rico  or  the  Philippines 
necessarily  involve  the  question, "  Is  it  right?"  for  we  have  definite 
moral  obligations  toward  those  islands. 


236  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

In  an  argument  based  on  expediency  we  must  not  lose 
sight  of  the  tastes  and  feelings  of  our  hearers.  If  they  are 
prejudiced  against  our  cause,  we  must  seek  to  remove  their 
prejudice  by  tact  and  skill  in  introducing  the  subject.  If 
they  are  inclined  to  favor  us,  we  must  take  care  not  to 
weary  them  or  make  them  suspicious  by  unnecessary  pre- 
liminaries. In  either  case,  we  must  establish  cordial  rela- 
tions with  the  audience. 

We  must  always  put  ourselves  hi  the  place  of  our 
hearers.  If  we  realize  how  they  are  likely  to  feel  toward 
our  case,  we  can  the  more  readily  show  how  the  policy  that 
we  favor  falls  in  with  their  interests  and  how  the  opposite 
policy  is  disadvantageous.  Our  success  in  persuading  the 
audience  will  depend,  in  great  part,  on  the  skill  with  which 
we  estimate  their  needs  and  interpret  their  feelings. 

Arguments  in  favor  of  a  given  policy  are  supported  by 
citing  facts.  In  some  cases  these  facts  must  themselves 
be  supported  by  evidence ;  in  other  cases  the  source  from 
which  they  are  drawn  is  sufficient  authority.  In  the 
latter  case,  it  is  important  to  make  clear  reference  to  the 
source,  in  order  that  the  facts  may  have  due  weight. 
Burke,  for  example,  in  his  "  Speech  on  Conciliation,"  intro- 
duces certain  statistics  as  follows  :  — 

I  have  in  my  hand  two  accounts  :  one  a  comparative  state  of 
the  export  trade  of  England  to  its  colonies,  as  it  stood  in  the  year 
170-1,  and  as  it  stood  in  the  year  177'2  ;  the  other  a  state  of  the 
export  trade  of  this  country  to  its  colonies  alone,  as  it  stood  in 
1772,  compared  with  the  whole  trade  of  England  to  all  parts  of 
the  world  (the  colonies  included)  in  the  year  1704.  They  are 
from  good  vouchers  :  the  latter  period  from  the  accounts  on  your 
table  ;  the  earlier  from  an  original  manuscript  of  Davenant,  who 
first  established  the  Inspector-General's  office,  which  has  been 
ever  since  his  time  so  abundant  a  source  of  parliamentary 
information.1 

iLamont's  edition,  p.  11. 


REFUTATION  237 

In  the  same  way,  when  fuels  are  drawn  from  hooks,  if 
the  source  is  not  instantly  recognizable  as  authoritative, 
we  should  briefly  explain  its  character,  and  in  a  footnote 
should  insert  a  reference  to  the  work,  mentioning  author, 
title,  date,  and  page. 

Arguments  of  policy  are  often  strengthened  by  what  is 
called  "argument  from  authority,"  —  that  is,  by  citing  the 
opinions  or  example  of  persons  whom  our  hearers  respect 
and  admire.  In  all  questions  of  reform,  the  opinions  of 
persons  of  recognized  moral  force  are  eagerly  sought  after. 
If  such  a  person  is  known  to  have  made  a  thorough  study 
of  the  subject,  his  authority  naturally  carries  still  more 
weight.  The  argument  for  universal  arbitration  as  a  sub- 
stitute  for  war  is  strengthened  by  citing  the  names  of 
men  who  have  had  practical  experience  in  public  affairs, 
for  their  favorable  opinion  tends  to  show  that  such  a 
reform  is  not  only  desirable  (which  most  people  would 
admit)  but  practicable  (which  many  people  deny). 

KEFUTATIOX 

An  argument  should  nut  neglect  the  points  made,  or  ' 
likely  to  be  made,  by  the  other  side.    It  should  contro- 
vert them,  discredit  them,  or  show  that  they  are  irrele- 
vant.   The  part  of  the  argument  in  which  tliis  is  done  is 
called  the  refutation. 

In  an  argument  of  fact,  the  refutation  may  show  the  im- 
possibility of  some  fact  which  is  important  to  the  other  side. 

Thus  Lincoln  dure  disproved  the  testimony  of  a  witness  that 
he  saw  a  certain  murder  committed  by  moonlight,  by  sending 
tor  ;in  almanac  and  pointing  out    thai    there  "as  no  moon   al   that 

time.    Similarly,  a  defendant  may  be  able  to  prove  an  alibi,  that  is, 
to  show  t  hat  lie  was  somewhere  else  \\  ben  t  he  crime  was  committed. 


238  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

If  it  is  not  practicable  to  disprove  the  testimony  of  a 
witness  absolutely,  its  effect  may  sometimes  be  weakened 
or  destroyed  by  showing  that  he  is  untrustworthy,  either 
by  reason  of  a  poor  memory,  or  because  he  is  stupid  or 
careless  or  prejudiced  or  given  to  lying.  This  is  the 
chief  purpose  of  cross-examination  in  trial  by  jury.  The 
same  principles  apply  in  the  refutation  of  alleged  facts 
drawn  from  books. 

Circumstantial  evidence  may  be  attacked  by  showing  that  the 
circumstances  brought  forward  are  capable  of  a  different  interpre- 
tation. Thus  the  fact  that  a  man  accused  of  murder  has  a  pistol 
in  his  possession  with  one  chamber  discharged,  will  cease  to  be 
significant  if  it  can  be  proved  that  he  tired  at  a  cat.  (Compare 
p.  230.) 

In  an  argument  of  theory,  the  refutation  may  adduce 
facts  that  overthrow  the  opposing  theory,  or  that  cannot 
be  explained  by  it. 

Thus,  in  the  proof  that  the  germ  of  yellow  fever  is  carried 
by  mosquitoes,  the  refutation  of  the  older  theory  that  it  was 
communicated  by  contact  was  made  by  wrapping  volunteers  in 
clothes  worn  by  patients  and  by  showing  that  none  of  them  caught 
the  disease. 

In  the  Junius  case,  the  inferiority  of  Francis's  acknowledged 
writings  to  the  Junius  letters  has  been  urged  as  an  argument 
against  his  identity  with  Junius.  Macaulay  refutes  this  argument 
by  citing  the  undoubted  fact  that  authors  often  show  similar 
inequality  in  their  known  works. 

In  the  following  paragraph,  Hazlitt 1  refutes  the  notion 
that  a  genius  is  naturally  idle  or  only  fitfully  active,  by 
citing  examples  to  the  contrary.  He  closes  with  an  im- 
plied challenge  to  his  opponents  to  produce  other  instances 
as  good  on  their  side  of  the  question. 

i  In  the  essay  "  On  Application  to  Study." 


REFUTATION  239 

There  cannot  be  a  greater  contradiction  to  the  common  preju- 
dice that  "  Genius  is  naturally  a  truant  and  a  vagabond,"  than  the 
astonishing  and  (on  the  hypothesis)  unaccountable  number  of 
chefs-d'oeuvre  left  behind  them  by  the  Old  Masters.  The  stream  of 
their  invention  supplies  the  taste  of  successive  generations  like  a 
river  :  they  furnish  a  hundred  galleries,  and  preclude  competition 
not  more  by  the  excellence  than  by  the  extent  of  their  performances. 
Take  Raphael  and  Rubens  for  instance.  There  are  works  of  theirs 
in  single  collections  enough  to  occupy  a  long  and  laborious  life, 
and  yet  their  works  are  spread  through  all  the  collections  of 
Europe.  They  seem  to  have  cost  them  no  more  labor  than 
if  they  "  had  drawn  in  their  breath  and  puffed  it  forth  again." 
But  we  know  that  they  made  drawings,  studies,  sketches  of  all  the 
principal  of  these,  with  the  care  and  caution  of  the  merest  tyros 
in  the  art ;  and  they  remain  equal  proofs  of  their  capacity  and 
diligence.  The  cartoons  of  Raphael  alone  might  have  employed 
many  years,  and  made  a  life  of  illustrious  labor,  though  they 
look  as  if  they  had  been  struck  off  at  a  blow,  and  are  not  a  tenth 
part  of  what  he  produced  in  his  short  but  bright  career.  Titian  and 
Michael  Angelo  lived  longer  ;  but  they  worked  as  hard  and  did  as 
well.  Shall  we  bring  in  competition  with  examples  like  these  some 
trashy  caricaturist,  or  idle  dauber,  who  has  no  sense  of  the  infinite 
resources  of  nature  or  art,  nor  consequently  any  power  to  employ 
himself  upon  them  for  any  length  of  time  or  to  any  purpose,  to 
prove  that  genius  and  regular  industry  are  incompatible  qualities  ? 

In  an  argument  of  policy,  the  refutation  may  designate 
] (articular  evils  or  disadvantages  that  would  result  from 
the  policy  of  the  other  side ;  or  it  may  contend  that  the 
policy  is  inconsistent  with  other  well-established  prin- 
ciples, that  it  overlooks  important  interests,  or  that  it 
contravenes  established  rights. 

Thus  Burke,  in  his  "Speech  on  Conciliation,"  shows  that  Eng- 
land will  lose  heavily  in  the  way  of  commerce  by  continued  dis- 
agreement with  the  colonics,  and  that  the  revenue  from  the 
grants  by  the  colonial  assemblies  had  been  greater  than  the  sum 
raised  by  taxes  imposed  by  Parliament.1      He  also  Bhows   that 

1  Lament's  edition,  p.  II. 


240  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

taxation  by  Parliament  is  inconsistent  with  the  policy  adopted, 
with  good  results,  in  the  cases  of  Ireland,  Wales,  Chester,  and 
Durham.1  And  he  shows  that  the  Boston  Port  Pill  and  the  with- 
drawal of  the  colonial  charters  contravene  the  recognized  rights 
of  all  Englishmen.2 

If  an  argument  in  favor  of  small  colleges  were  to  assert  that 
a  student  is  in  danger  of  being  isolated  and  forgotten  in  a  large 
college,  the  refutation  might  point  out  that  it  is  well  for  a  young- 
man  to  find  his  place  for  himself,  and  that  by  doing  so  in  college 
he  is  better  prepared  to  fight  his  own  way  in  the  world. 

The  refutation  should  always  be  adapted  to  both  the 
actual  aud  the  possible  arguments  of  the  other  side. 
Where  it  shall  come  in,  and  how,  must  be  decided  in  each 
case  by  tact  and  shrewdness.  If  we  are  to  be  followed  by 
our  opponent,  it  becomes  necessary  to  guess  at  his  argu- 
ments, and,  under  these  circumstances,  we  must  be  careful 
not  to  "  give  him  points."  If  our  opponent  precedes,  we 
must  not  pass  over  any  of  his  points  without  attention. 

In  a  short  argument,  the  refutation  may  stand  by  itself, 
all  in  one  place.  In  this  arrangement,  the  affirmative  con- 
siderations are  likely  to  come  first,  in  a  body,  and  the 
negative  considerations  to  follow.  In  a  long  argument, 
however,  it  is  often  better  to  attach  to  each  of  the  points 
that  we  make,  a  refutation  of  anything  that  our  opponent 
has  said,  or  is  likely  to  say,  against  it.  In  this  way  we 
finish  the  discussion  of  each  point  before  we  pass  to  the 
next,  and  our  refutation  is  distributed  throughout  the 
argument,  But  all  such  general  principles  of  arrangement 
must  yield,  on  occasion,  to  expediency  and  effectiveness.3 

The  manner  of  our  refutation  will  also  depend  on  cir- 
cumstances. Sometimes  it  should  be  formally  introduced ; 
at  other  times  it  may  be  brought  in  casually,  as  if  it  were 

l  Lamont's  edition,  p.  42.  2  P.  58. 

3  See  the  specimen  briefs,  pp.  216-217,  249-259. 


PERSUASION  241 

of  slight  consequence.  Both  methods  have  their  peculiar 
dangers.  If  we  pay  too  much  attention  to  our  opponents, 
and  manifestly  attach  great  importance  to  their  argu- 
ments, we  may  discredit  our  own  case.  On  the  other 
hand,  if  we  pass  by  one  of  their  points  in  silence,  or 
with  scant  notice,  we  run  the  risk  of  appearing  unable  to 
answer  it. 

In  preparing  for  an  argument,  we  should  always  read 
up  both  sides  of  the  question  as  thoroughly  as  possible. 
This  not  only  ensures  greater  fairness  in  treating  the 
subject,  but  puts  us  in  a  better  position  to  support  our 
own  case.  A  strong  argument  is  often  fatally  injured  by 
failure  to  refute  some  specious  point  urged  by  the  opponent, 
the  weakness  of  which  might  easily  have  been  shown  if 
the  speaker  had  known  the  facts  beforehand. 

PEKSUASION 

It  follows  from  the  definitions  of  the  three  classes  of 
argument  (pp.  225-227)  that  persuasion  is  concerned  chiefly 
witli  arguments  of  policy.  One  should  be  careful  in  an 
argument  of  fact  or  of  theory  not  to  include  anything 
which  would  unnecessarily  antagonize  a  reader;  but,  in 
the  main,  those  arguments  assume  that  the  reader  is 
looking  for  the  truth,  and  that  his  feelings  are  not 
concerned. 

An  argument  of  policy,  on  the  other  band,  lias  accom- 
plished only  a  part  of  its  aim  when  it  lias  convinced  its 
renders.  If  it  is  to  have  practical  results,  it  must  also 
move  them  to  action.  Must  reasonable  men  will  admit. 
without  much  argument,  that  they  ought  to  vote  in  the 
"primaries,"  and  that  not  t<>  do  so  is  i<<  neglect  an  impor- 
tant public  duty.    It  is  quite  another  thing  to  persuade  an 


242  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

individual  man  to  go  out  on  a  rainy  evening  after  a  hard 
day's  work,  even  when  some  definite  reform  is  at  stake 
hi  which  he  fully  believes. 

The  only  way  to  move  most  people  to  action  is  to  stir 
their  feelings.  We  all  know  what  it  is  to  have  our  reason 
convinced,  and  yet  to  remain  indifferent  to  the  whole 
subject.  It  is  not  until  our  feelings  are  enlisted  that  we 
lose  this  spirit  of  indifference  and  are  ready  to  exert  our- 
selves and  make  sacrifices  in  order  to  carry  the  matter  to 
a  conclusion. 

To  stir  the  feelings  of  our  readers  by  an  argument  we 
must  use  much  the  same  means  as  in  exposition,  descrip- 
tion, and  narration.  We  must  cite  specific  facts,  and,  so 
far  as  possible,  we  must  enforce  the  abstract  and  general 
by  illustrations  and  examples  drawn  from  the  reader's 
own  experience.  A  man  who  will  be  bored  by  a  general 
appeal  in  behalf  of  a  society  for  the  prevention  of  cruelty 
to  animals,  will  often  contribute  liberally  if  we  describe 
specific  cases  of  cruelty  which  we  ourselves  have  seen. 

In  practical  questions,  persuasion  depends  chiefly  on 
-^  establishing  in  the  minds  of  the  audience  a  warm  and 
intimate  connection  between  their  own  interests  and  the 
policy  we  advocate.  Whenever  we  can  make  a  man  feel 
that  his  personal  interests  are  at  stake,  we  have  gained  a 
powerful  hold  on  his  feelings  and  have  made  a  good  start 
towards  moving  him  to  action. 

Even  in  a  question  of  policy,  however,  our  arguments 
should  appeal  to  the  r^ason-^^jsslLas^^the  feelings^  A 
demagogue  may  excite  his  followers  to  inconsiderate  action 
by  playing  upon  their  emotions,  but,  in  the  long  run,  reason 
and  conscience  form  the  only  safe  basis  for  an  argument. 

In  any  case,  an  advocate  should  keep  his  temper.  If  he 
has  confidence  in  Ms  own  side,  the  tactics  of  his  opponent 


DEBATES  243 

will  not  disturb  his  serenity.  Anger  or  undue  heat  is 
commonly  interpreted  as  indicating  a  weak  case,  and  is 
pretty  certain  to  interfere  with  an  effective  presentation 
of  the  subject. 

Finally,  we  should  remember  that  to  be  persuasive  we 
must  understand  our  audience.  An  argument  on  theory  or 
on  fact  may  be  addressed  to  an  abstract  audience  of 
"  reasonable  men " ;  an  argument  of  policy  seeks  to  per- 
suade certain  definite  persons.  Since  different  people  have 
different  interests  and  different  ways  of  looking  at  things, 
each  audience  recpuires  a  different  treatment.  Here  we 
must  exercise  tact.  We  must  consider  just  howr  far  our 
hearers  will  listen  to  a  pure  reasoning-out  of  the  subject, 
and  just  how  soon  such  a  treatment  of  it  will  bore  them. 
We  must  know  what  their  prepossessions  and  prejudices 
are,  and  adjust  our  argument  to  their  feelings. 

DEBATES 

The  most  profitable  subjects  for  debate  are  questions  of 
policy.  Questions  of  fact  commonly  need  the  evidence  of 
witnesses;  cmestions  of  theory  or  principle  are  likely  to 
be  too  abstruse  for  most  audiences;  and  neither  of  these 
classes  of  argument  affords  much  opportunity  for  per- 
suasion. Questions  of  policy,  on  the  other  hand,  include 
innumerable  questions  which  are  intelligible  ami  interest- 
ing to  a  great  variety  of  persons  ;  and  they  call  into  play  T 
both  the  reasoning  powers  of  the  debaters  and  their  per- 
suasive skill. 


Tn   general,   those   subjects   arc    the   best    for  debate   which   lie 

within  the  experience  of  the  debaters  «>r  touch  their  actual  inter- 
ests. '•  Shall  the  Douma  have  the  powers  of  Parliament?"  and 
"Shall  the  House  of  Lords  be  abolished?"  arc.  for  Americans 


244  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

purely  theoretical  questions.  Since,  then,  an  American  audience 
can  have  no  share  in  settling  them,  their  discussion  will  not  give 
an  American  debater  much  chance  to  practise  persuasion.  On  the 
other  hand,  in  a  school  or  college  debate,  a  subject  like  "  Shall 
the  rules  of  football  be  changed?"  has  direct  and  practical  interest 
both  for  the  debaters  and  for  the  audience.  Persuasion  therefore 
comes  into  play,  and  so  the  speakers  are  kept  on  their  mettle. 

In  like  manner,  questions  of  local  administration  are  always  of 
immediate  interest.  "  Shall  municipal  elections  hinge  on  national 
politics?"  must  be  settled  by  every  town  for  itself,  often  on 
grounds  which  do  not  apply  to  other  places.  The  same  is  true 
of  many  other  questions, —  such  as  public  or  private  ownership  of 
waterworks,  the  maintenance  of  a  park  system,  "prohibition  or 
local  option."  Subjects  of  this  kind  are  well-suited  to  debate,  for 
they  require  the  application  of  large  principles  to  very  definite 
local  conditions. 

Questions  for  debate  should  not  be  too  extensive.  A  school 
discussion  of  an  hour  or  two  on  "  tariff  or  free  trade  "  could  deal 
only  in  vague  generalities  and  dogmatic  statements  ;  it  would 
barely  touch  the  surface.  Indeed,  such  a  debate,  if  it  came  often, 
might  do  the  speakers  more  harm  than  good.  It  would  encourage 
the  fatal  habit  of  depending  on  mere  assertion  as  if  it  were 
proAred  fact. 

In  preparing  for  a  debate,  the  first  thing  is  to  make 
sure  that  we  have  a  debatable  question.  To  be  profitably 
debatable  a  question  must  be  one  on  which  reasonable 
men  may  differ. 

It  would  be  absurd  to  debate  the  question  whether  treason  is 
wicked  or  not  ;  for  no  sensible  man  would  take  the  negative.  On 
the  other  hand,  whether  correspondence  with  rebels  in  a  specific 
case  is  treason  or  not  may  be  a  highly  debatable  question,  to  be 
settled  both  on  grounds  of  public  expediency  and  of  law.  Again, 
granted  the  definition  of  treason,  it  was  a  question  of  fact,  to  be 
determined  by  evidence  and  argument,  whether  Aaron  Burr  was 
guilty  of  certain  specific  acts  that  were  admittedly  treasonable.  ^ 

Similarly,  no  one  would  debate  the  proposition  that  unfair 
play  should  be  ruled  out  of  athletics.    On  the  other  hand,  how 


DEBATES  245 

far  a  team  may  properly  take  advantage  of  contingencies  unpro- 
vided for  by  the  rules,  is  a  question  which  ought  to  be  very  thor- 
oughly debated,  in  order  that  we  may  reach  right  standards 
in  athletics. 

Further,  questions  which  turn  on  personal  taste  are  rarely  to 
be  debated  with  profit.  Such  are  most  questions  of  preference 
between  books  and  authors,  comparisons  between  different  races 
or  nations,  between  different  games,  and  so  on.  Indeed,  many 
of  the  questions  on  which  we  argue  amicably  with  our  friends 
furnish  poor  material  for  a  formal  debate. 

When  we  have  found  a  debatable  question,  we  should 
state  it  carefully,  so  that  the  issue  between  the  affirmative 
and  the  negative  is  clear.  A  debate  in  which  one  side  does 
not  face  the  other  squarely  is  a  waste  of  time. 

"  The  United  States  should  withdraw  from  the  Philippines"  is 
a  vague  proposition,  on  which  the  negative  and  the  affirmative  may 
never  meet ;  for  the  affirmative  may  take  it  to  mean  a  withdrawal 
in  the  distant  future,  and  the  negative  an  immediate  withdrawal. 
Thus  the  two  sides  would  be  arguing  different  questions.  On 
the  other  hand,  "  The  United  States  should  withdraw  from  the 
Philippines  at  once,"  or  "  as  soon  as  good  order  is  established," 
would  be  an  excellent  subject  for  debate. 

The  proposition,  "  Colleges  should  not  employ  professional 
coaches  in  athletics,"  is  ambiguous;  for  the  word  professional  may 
be  taken  to  mean  a  man  who  makes  his  living  by  athletics  or 
it  may  include  a  man  who,  to  earn  money  to  complete  his  edu- 
cation or  for  some  other  temporary  purpose,  takes  pay  for  his 
services.  Again,  municipal  ownership  of  street  railways  may  or 
may  not  include  municipal  operation. 

The  proposition,  then,  must  be  so  definitely  stated  that 
both  sides  may  confront  each  other  squarely  on  the  same 
issue,  understood  in  the  same  way.  In  many  cases,  the  mere 
statement  of  the  issue  calls  for  much  thought  and  a 
thorough  understanding  of  the  subject. 

In  arranging  for  a  debate,  the  following  order  of  pro- 
cedure will  be  found  convenient.    The  challengers  present 


246  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

three  questions  to  the  challenged,  who  select  one  of  the 
three.  Lots  are  then  cast  to  decide  which  party  shall 
take  the  affirmative  and  which  the  negative ;  or,  by  previ- 
ous agreement,  the  challenged  party  has  its  choice.  These 
arrangements  are  in  the  interest  of  a  fair  debate ;  for  they 
remove  all  temptation  to  propose  a  question  peculiarly 
advantageous  to  one's  own  party. 

When  the  question  has  been  agreed  upon  and  the  side 
which  each  party  is  to  take  has  been  settled,  it  is  often 
wise  to  hold  a  preliminary  meeting,  so  as  to  make  sure 
that  both  parties  understand  the  issue  in  the  same  way. 
Such  a  conference  may  even  result  in  an  agreement  as  to 
certain  facts  in  the  case,  and  these  are  then  to  be  used 
freely  by  either  party,  without  the  necessity  of  proof. 
The  facts  agreed  on,  however,  should  be  carefully  stated 
in  writing,  in  order  that  no  misunderstanding  may  arise. 

Preparation  for  a  debate  should  be  based  on  wide  read- 
ing and  careful  search  of  the  authorities.  Well-supported 
facts  are  of  the  utmost  importance.  Sometimes  they  are 
to  be  obtained  from  books  or  magazines ;  sometimes,  and 
especially  in  questions  of  local  interest,  by  personal  inves- 
tigation and  enquiry.  We  should  always  study  both  sides 
of  the  question.  It  is  as  necessary  to  know  the  weak 
points  in  the  case  of  our  opponents  as  it  is  to  know  the 
strong  points  in  our  own  case.  Besides,  we  must  be  ready 
to  withstand  attack.  If  we  have  made  thorough  prepara- 
tion, we  shall  be  able  to  guess  pretty  accurately  what 
our  opponents  will  urge,  both  in  their  direct  proof  and  in 
their  refutation. 

The  debate  is  always  opened  by  a  speaker  on  the  affirma- 
tive side ;  a  negative  speaker  follows,  and  so  on,  by  turns.1 

i  When  there  are  several  speakers  on  each  side,  however,  the  pair  who 
close  the  dehate  often  appear  in  reverse  order,  so  that  the  affirmative  has 
the  last  word.    There  is  no  fixed  rule. 


DEBATES  247 

"When  there  are  two  or  three  speakers  on  each  side,  the 
arguments  should  be  divided  among  them  beforehand.  But 
this  adjustment  cannot  be  rigid,  for  every  speaker  except 
the  first  must  adapt  his  remarks  to  what  his  predecessors 
have  said. 

The  first  speaker,  who  introduces  the  subject  and  usually 
indicates  the  line  of  argument  which  the  affirmative  means 
to  pursue,  may  commit  his  speech  to  memory  if  he  wishes. 
The  last  speaker  on  each  side,  who  sums  up,  cannot  do 
this,  for  obvious  reasons.  In  general,  however,  all  the 
speakers  will  make  a  better  impression  if  they  trust  some- 
what to  the  inspiration  of  the  moment  for  the  exact  words 
they  use. 

A  debater  must  not  be  satisfied  with  stating  his  own 
side  of  the  case  ;  he  must  be  quick  to  grasp  the  arguments 
of  his  opponents  and  to  meet  them  in  rebuttal.  Effective 
refutation  depends  in  great  part  on  the  thoroughness  of 
one's  preparation. 

In  an  argument  on  the  retention  of  the  Philippines,  if  the 
affirmative  should  urge  the  richness  of  the  islands  and  the  oppor- 
tunities for  profitable  commerce,  the  negative  might  take  the 
ground  that  the  affirmative  had  not  produced  figures  to  prove 
the  richness,  and  that  the  people  of  a  tropical  climate  have  few 
■wants  for  commerce  to  supply. 

The  argument  for  the  municipal  ownership  and  operation  of 
street  railways  drawn  from  the  success  of  Glasgow  has  been  met 
by  showing  that  the  conditions  are  widely  different,  that  munici- 
pal politics  in  Glasgow  are  on  a  purely  business  basis,  and  thai 
the  railway  mileage  is  not  so  large  as  an  American  city  demands. 

Striking  facts  are  very  effective  in  a  rebuttal,  and  readiness 
to  meets  one's  opponent  on  his  own  ground  is  in  itself 
evidence  of  the  strength  of  one's  own  case. 

The  last  speaker  on  each  side  should  briefly  recapitulate 
the  points  made  both  in  the  direct  argument  and  in  the 


2-18  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

rebuttal.  He  should  take  heed,  however,  not  to  dwell  too 
seriously  on  the  arguments  of  the  other  side.  If  he  pays 
them  too  much  attention,  he  will  only  fix  them  more  firmly 
in  the  minds  of  his  audience.  In  this  way  an  unskilful 
disputant  may  even  succeed  in  arguing  against  himself. 
If  one  ventures  to  make  light  of  adverse  arguments,  this 
should  be  done  with  delicacy,  and  without  even  the 
appearance  of  browbeating  or  unfairness. 

In  manner,  a  debater  should  be  courteous  and  restrained. 
He  should  not  shout:  a  conversational  tone  is  advisable 
if  the  audience  is  not  too  large,  as  if  one  were  talking 
the  subject  over  with  one's  hearers.  A  spread-eagle  manner 
will  prejudice  most  audiences  and  the  judicious  part  of  all 
audiences.  One  should  not  haggle  over  unimportant  points. 
It  is  better  to  yield  on  a  trifling  matter  than  to  weary  the 
patience  of  the  audience  by  dwelling  on  it.  Quick  judg- 
ment as  to  when  to  yield  and  when  to  insist  is  of  the 
greatest  value  to  the  debater. 

Finally,  a  speaker  should  always  remember  that  the  pur- 
pose of  debate  is  to  aid  in  arriving  at  the  truth  or  the 
right.  He  should  not  take  up  an  argument  in  a  spirit  of 
contentiousness  or  prejudice.  His  business  is  to  throw  as 
much  light  on  the  subject  as  he  can.  Such  considerations 
will  relieve  him  from  the  uneasy  feeling  that  he  is  arguing 
against  his  conscience  when  the  conditions  of  a  debate  force 
him  to  support  the  side  which  he  does  not  personally  favor. 
Under  these  circumstances,  he  is  really  testing  his  private 
opinions  by  bringing  against  them  what  sound  arguments 
he  can  discover.  Thus  he  helps  both  himself  and  his  audi- 
ence to  take  a  less  partial  view  of  the  whole  subject.  At 
the  end  of  the  debate  he  will  probably  find  that  his  origi- 
nal opinion  is  much  modified.  He  may  even  have  changed 
his  mind. 


SPECIMEN  BRIEFS  249 

SPECIMEN  BEIEFS 

Five  specimen  briefs  will  now  be  given  for  study  and 
reference.1 

I 

Should  this  school  adopt  the  plan  of  a  single  long  session  in  place 
of  two  short  sessions  ? 

BRIEF  FOR  THE  AFFIRMATIVE 

Introduction 

I.  This  school  has  always  had  two  short  sessions.    (Name  the 
hours.) 
II.  In  the  last  ten  years  the  town  has  grown  so  rapidly  that 
many  pupils  now  come  from  outlying  districts.    (Cite  the 
numbers  and  distances.) 
III.  Many  pupils  and  parents  favor  a  single  long  session. 

Brief  Proper 
A  single  session,  lasting  from  9  till  2,  is  better  for  this  school 

than  two  short  sessions. 

Direct  Proof 

I.  A  pupil  can  accomplish  more  if  his  time  of  application  is  not 
broken  ;  for 

A.  It  is  easier  to  keep  his  attention  undistracted  by  outside 

affairs. 

B.  There  is  less  waste  of  time  in  getting  settled  down  to 

work  and  in  breaking  up. 

Refutation 

II.  The  assertion  that  five  hours  is  too  long  a  session  for  the 
strength  of  the  pupils  is  mistaken ;  for 
A.  A  healthy  boy  or  girl  is  perfectly  capable  of  studying  for 
five  hours. 

1  It  is  assumed  that, if  the  pupil  had  prepared  these  briefs,  he  would 
have  cited,  wherever  it  is  possible,  specific  instances  which  have  come  to 
his  knowledge.  The  necessary  omission  of  such  examples  iii  the  briefs  as 
here  printed  gives  the  appearance  of  mere  assertion  to  some  parts  of  the 
<■-.  idence  which  might  easily  be  supported  by  direct  testimony. 


250  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

B.  The  strain  is  broken  — 

By  the  change  of  subject  from  period  to  period ; 

By  study  hours  ; 

By  recess; 

By  drill  and  gymnastic  exercises. 

C.  Many  boys  and  girls  work  all  day  in  shops,  factories,  and 

offices. 

Direct  Proof 

III.  The  single   session   divides  the   whole    day  better  for   the 

pupil,  for 

A.  The  clear  afternoon  makes  possible  continuous  work  on 

compositions  and  other  long  exercises. 

B.  The  pupil  has  time  for  athletics  or  for  visiting  his  friends. 

C.  It  is  a  better  preparation  for  business,  since  it  accustoms 

the  pupil  to  longer  hours  away  from  home. 

IV.  The  two  sessions  are  an  inconvenience  to  pupils  and  then- 

parents,  for 

A.  Pupils  who  live  near  the  school  have  their  time  unneces- 

sarily broken  up. 

B.  Pupils  from  a  distance  must  either  hurry  to  and  from 

luncheon,  or  else  eat  a  cold  luncheon  in  an  uncomfort- 
able place.    (Cite  cases.) 

Conclusion 

Therefore,  since  a  single  session  leaves  more  time  unbroken 
for  study,  since  it  does  not  cover  too  long  a  period  for  pupils  of 
high-school  age,  and  since  it  divides  the  day  more  sensibly  and 
more  conveniently  for  the  pupils,  this  school  should  have  a  single 
session  instead  of  two. 

II 

Should  this  school  adopt  the  plan  of  a  single  long  session  in  place 
of  two  short  sessions  ? 

BRIEF  FOR  THE  NEGATIVE 

Introduction 

(As  in  the  affirmative  argument.) 


SPECIMEN   BRIEFS  251 

Brief  Proper 
One  session  is  not  better  for  this  school  than  two. 

Direct  Proof 

I.  The  single  session  of  five  hours  is  too  long  for  growing  boys 
and  girls  to  be  confined  ;  for 

A.  They  need  relaxation  to  keep  their  minds  fresh. 

B.  They  need  frequent  chances  to  exercise  in  the  open  air. 

Refutation 

II.  The  assertion  that  more  work  can  be  accomplished  in  a  sin- 
gle session  is  mistaken  ;  for 

A.  In  two  shorter  sessions  the  pupil's  mind  is  fresher. 

B.  Work  can  go  on  at  a  higher  pressure  for  the  shorter  session. 

III.  Little  importance  should  be  attached  to  the  assertion  that  a 

single  session  divides  the  day  better  for  the  pupil,  for 

A.  There  is  time  after  school  for  games  and  visits. 

B.  There  are  no  home  lessons  that  cannot  be  done  in  the 

afternoon  and   evening. 

C.  A  pupil  should  learn  to  piece  together  fragments  of  time 

for  accomplishing  longer  exercises. 

D.  The  present  arrangement  leads  the  pupil  to  regard  the 

school  hours  as  the  most  important  part  of  the  day. 

Direct  Proof 

IV.  The  plan  of  two  sessions  better  fits  the  pupil  for  his  work  in 

after  life,  for 

It  appr&aches  the  arrangement  of  time  for  persons  in 

business. 

GONCLU8ION 

Since,  then,  two  sessions  are  better  fitted  to  the  mental  and 
bodily  conditions  of  growing  boys  and  girls  than  one,  since  as 
much  work  can  be  accomplished  in  two  sessions  as  in  one,  and 
since  two  sessions  inculcate  the  habit  of  using  the  greater  pari  of 
the  day  for  work,  this  school  sle.nl. I  not  adopt  a  single  session  in 
place  of  the  customary  two  sessions. 


252  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

III 
Should  final  examinations  be  retained  in  this  school  ? 

BRIEF  FOR  THE  AFFIRMATIVE 
Introduction 

I.  A  final  examination  is  a  written  test  of    an  entire  term's 
work  in  some  study.    As  a  rule,  it  counts  heavily  in  deter- 
mining a  pupil's  standing. 
II.  Both  sides  admit  that  the  final  examination  subjects  the  nerv- 
ous pupil  to  a  strain  upon  mind  and  body. 

III.  Both  sides  admit  that  it  does  not  determine  the  pupil's  pro- 

ficiency with  absolute  certainty. 

IV.  The  question  at  issue  is  :  Are  final  examinations  of  sufficient 

value,  in  spite  of  their  inadequacy  as  a  conclusive  measure 
of  ability,  and  in  spite  of  the  physical  and  mental  strain 
they  sometimes  involve,  to  warrant  their  continuance  in 
this  school  ? 

Brief  Proper 

I.  The  final  examination  is  useful  to  the  pupil,  for 

A.  It  is  in  some  ways  a  fairer  test  than  a  series  of  recita- 
tions, for 

1.  In  a  final  examination  all  pupils  have  a  more  nearly 

equal  opportunity,  for 
All  pupils  have  to  answer  the  same  questions, 
whereas,  in  a  series  of  recitations,  on  the  other 
hand,  one  pupil  may  by  accident  have  to  answer 
questions  which,  in  the  aggregate,  are  harder  than 
those  given  to  another  pupil ;  or  all  members  of  the 
class  may  not  have  the  same  opportunity  to  recite. 

2.  The  pupil  has  more  time  to  think  out  and  revise  his 

answers  than  the  recitation  gives  him. 

3.  Though  it  may  be  objected  that  it  is  unfair  that  a 

single  faulty  examination  paper,  written,  it  may  be, 
under  particularly  unfavorable  conditions,  should 
lower  the  standing  of  a  pupil  who  has  recited  well 
all  through  the  term,  yet 


SPECIMEN  BRIEFS  •j:1:>, 

3'.   A  fair-minded  teacher  is  always  on  his  guard  against 
doing  the  pupil  such  a  manifest  injustice. 
B.  The    objection    that   the    final    examination    encourages 
"  cramming  "  is  not  a  serious  one,  for 

1.  Intelligent  "cramming"  (by  which  we  mean  a  rapid 

review)  is  not  an  evil,  for 

a.  In  making  a  rapid    review  of   a  study,  the  pupil 

usually  acquires  a  clearer  knowledge  of  the  subject 
as  a  whole  than  he  had  before,  and 

b.  The  ability  to  master  and  set  forth  a  large  amount 

of  special  information  at  short  notice  is  often  of 
great  service  in  after  life.    Moreover, 

2.  A  pupil  can,  if  he  chooses,  study  any  subject  in  such 

a  way  that  he  does  not  need  to  "cram"  at  the  end 
of  the  term. 
II.  The  final  examination  is  useful  to  the  teacher,  for 

A.  It  affords  him  his  best  opportunity  for  learning,  without 

waste  of  time,  how  firm  a  grasp  each  pupil  has  on  the 
subject  as  a  whole. 

B.  Little  weight  should  be  given  to  the  objection  that  the 

examination  shows  the  teacher  merely  how  much  the 
pupil  is  able  to  remember  for  a  few  hours,  for 

1.  No  conceivable  test  can  show  how  much  the  pupil  will 

remember  through  life. 

2.  The  skill  with  which  the  pupil  sets  forth  information 

he  has  acquired  even  for  the  time  1  icing  gives  the 
teacher  an  idea  of  his  ability  to  grasp  the  essentials 
of  a  subject  and  to  apply  general  principles. 

C.  The  teacher  acquires  information  which  enables  him  to 

improve  his  instruction,  for 

He  will  naturally  try  thereafter  to  present  more 
clearly  those  parts  of  the  subject  in  which  the 
pupils  as  a  whole  do  poorly. 

D.  The  examination  serves  as  a  means  of  correcting  or  con- 

firming the  impressions  tin-  teacher  lias  already  gained 
from  recitations. 

E.  The  fact  that  the  final  examination  lias  for  so  many  years 

been  almost  universally  considered  essential  I"  effective 
teaching  is  good  evidence  as  to  its  usefulness. 


254  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Conclusion 

I.  We  have  shown  that  the  final  examination  is  of  service  to 
the  pupil,  in  that 

A.  It  is  in  some  ways  a  fairer  test  of  the  pupil's  standing  in 

class  than  a  series  of  recitations. 

B.  It   compels  the  pupil   to    review    carefully,   though    not 

necessarily  to  "  cram  "  at  the  end  of  the  term. 

C.  It  gives  the  pupil  valuable  practice  in  effectively  present- 

ing information  at  short  notice. 
II.  We  have  also  made  it  clear  that  the  final  examination  is  of 
service  to  the  teacher  in  that 

A.  It  affords  a  kind  of  evidence  of  the  pupil's  proficiency 

which  the  recitation  does  not  give. 

B.  It  enables  him  to  correct  defects  in  his  teaching. 

III.  We  have  pointed  out,  furthermore,  that  the  final  examina- 

tion has  stood  the  test  of  many  years  of  almost  univer- 
sal use. 

IV.  We  conclude,    therefore,  that   the  present  system  of   final 

examinations  should  be  retained  in  this  school. 


IV 

Should  final  examinations  be  retained  in  this  school  ? 

BRIEF  FOR  THE  NEGATIVE 

Introduction 

(As  in  the  Brief  for  the  Affirmative.) 

Brief  Proper 

I.  The  final  examination  works  injury  to  the  pupil,  for 

A.  The  altogether    disproportionate   degree    of  importance 
which  it  assumes  in  the  pupil's  mind  is  injurious,  for 

1.  The  pupil  is  almost  sure  to  study  for  the  purpose,  pri- 

marily, of  passing  the  examination, —  not  with  the 
idea  of  acquiring  information. 

2.  The  thought  of  the  impending  examination  lessens  the 

pupil's  enjoyment  of  his  work. 


SPECIMEN  BRIEFS  255 

3.  The  examination  hour  is  felt  to   be  such  a  critical 

period  that  a  pupil  often  fails  to  do  himself  justice  at 
this  time. 

4.  When  the  examination  is  passed,  the  pupil  is  apt  to 

think  that  he  ueeds  to  give  no  further  attention  to 
the  subject. 

B.  It  is  almost  certain  to  result  in  harmful  "  cramming,"  for 

The  contention  that  the  examination  compels  the  pupil 
to  make  a  helpful  rapid  review  is  not  sound,  for 
The  review  is  made  under  such  a  strain  and  so 
rapidly  that  the  pupil  commonly  does  not  take 
time  thoroughly  to  digest  his  facts,  for 

Every  teacher  can  furnish  evidence  in  proof. 

C.  It  establishes  a  false  standard  of  proficiency,  for 

In  after  life  the  accuracy  and  fullness  of  our  information 
is  subjected  to  far  different  tests  from  that  of  the 
written  examination. 
II.  The  final    examination  is    of    no  special    advantage  to  the 
teacher,  for 

A.  It  usually  confirms  his  impressions  instead  of  correcting 

them,  for 

Any  teacher  will  tell  you  that  he  commonly  knows 
before  the  examination  whether  a  given  pupil  is 
likely  to  pass  or  not. 

B.  If  the  examination  fails  to  confirm  the  teacher's  impres- 

sions, he  is  still  likely  to  attach  greater  importance 
to  these  impressions  than  to  the  results  of  the  examina- 
tion, for 

A  teacher  has  more  confidence  in  the  impressions  re- 
ceived from  repeated  personal  contact  in  class  than 
in  the  results  of  a  single  examination,  given  at 
best  under  unfavorable  conditions. 

C.  The  objection  that  the  present  system  of  examinations 

has  stood  the  test  of  several  years  is  not  important,  for 

1.  There  have  always  been  protests  againsl  the  system,  and 

2.  It  has  been  retained  rather  as  a  matter  of  convenience 

than  of  strict,  necessity. 

D.  The   objection    that    the    final    examination    helps   the 

teacher  to  improve  his  instruction  is  not  important,  for 
The  daily  recitations  give  him  the  same  opportunity. 


256  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

III.  Whatever  advantages  the  final  examination  affords,  either  to 
teacher  or  to  pupil,  may  be  gained  during  the  term  by 
frequent  oral  or  written  tests  which,  in  the  aggregate, 
will  furnish  a  far  more  reliable  basis  than  the  final  ex- 
amination for  determining  the  student's  standing. 

Conclusion 

I.  We  have  shown  that  the  final  examination  has  the  following 
defects  : 

A.  It  worries  and  in  various  ways  hampers  the  pupil. 

B.  It  furnishes  the  teacher  with  evidence  which  is  less  trust- 

worthy than  that  obtained  from  other  sources. 

C.  It  serves  no  useful  purpose  which  could  not  be  better 

accomplished  by  other  kinds  of  tests. 
II.  We  conclude,  therefore,  that  the  final  examination  should  be 
abolished  in  this  school. 


This  town  should  control  and  tax  the  fixed  out-of-door  adver- 
tisements displayed  within  its  limits. 

Introduction 

I.  Out-of-door  signs  and  posters  have  of  late  increased  so 
rapidly  in  this  town,  and  the  method  of  display  has  become, 
in  the  opinion  of  many,  so  objectionable,  that  our  citizens 
are  beginning  to  protest.  We  refer  to  the  painted  or  printed 
announcements,  often  accompanied  by  pictures,  which  are 
spread  upon  the  outside  walls  and  the  i-oofs  of  buildings, 
and  on  fences,  hoardings,  and  bill-boards. 
II.  Assuming,  for  the  moment,  that  a  protest  is  justified,  we 
believe  that  a  reform  could  be  accomplished  if  the  town 
would  undertake  (1)  to  decide  where  and  in  what  manner 
out-of-door  announcements  shall  be  displayed ;  (2)  to  col- 
lect a  tax  of  so  much  a  square  foot  upon  all  signs  and  ad- 
vertisements of  more  than  a  certain  area.  The  exempt 
area  should  be  large  enough  to  permit  a  man  to  erect  an 
appropriate  sign,  without  taxation,  at  his  place  of  business, 


SPECIMEN   BRIEFS  257 

but  we  shall  not  at  this  time  consider  such  details  as  its 
precise  limitations  or  the  rate  of  taxation. 
III.   There  are  two  questions  at  issue,  then,  both  of  which  we 
shall  endeavor  to  answer  convincingly  in  the  affirmative  : 

A.  Are  the  announcements  to  which  we  have  alluded  really 

objectionable  ? 

B.  If    they  are  objectionable,  would  the  remedy  we    have 

suggested  prove  effective  ? 

Brief  Proper 

I.  The  citizens  are  justified  in  protesting  against  the  kind  of 
advertising  now  permitted  in  our  streets,  for 

A.  These  advertisements  tend  to  degrade  the  public  taste,  for 

1.  They  are  usually  inartistic. 

2.  They  are  so  distributed  that  they  sometimes  disfigure 

buildings  which  are  architecturally  pleasing,  and 
often  destroy  the  natural  beauty  of  parks,  commons, 
and  other  unoccupied  spots. 

3.  In  localities  where  they  might  appropriately  be  exhib- 

ited, they  are  often  so  huge  and  so  numerous  that 
they  offend  the  eye. 

B.  They  tend  to  degrade  the  public  morals,  particularly  the 

morals  of  the  young,  for 

1.  The  things  which  they  advertise  are  sometimes  harm- 

ful morally,  and 

2.  The    manner    of    presentation  —  particularly    by   the 

use  of  pictures  —  is  sometimes  objectionable,  even 
where  there   is  nothing  morally  wrong  about   the 
article  advertised. 
If.  The  community  would  be  benefitted  if  the  town  were  to 
assunie  control  of  out-of-door  advertising,  for 

A.  Such    advertising    could    be    restricted    to    appropriate 

places. 

B.  Advertisements    offensive  to  either  the    artistic   or    the 

moral  sense  could  be  forbidden. 

C.  The    tax    would    reduce    the    number    and    the    size    of 

advertisements. 

D.  The  tax  would  add  to  the  revenue  of  the  town. 


258  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

III.  Although  people  who  advertise  in  the   manner  described, 

together  with  the  sign-painters,  bill-posters,  and  other 
workmen  who  display  the  advertisements,  and  the  property- 
owners  who  obtain  rental  from  this  source,  will  all  naturally 
object  that  the  reform  here  proposed  would  interfere  with 
their  means  of  livelihood,  yet  this  objection  should  not 
hold,  for 

A.  Most  of  the  inhabitants  of  this  town  are  not  concerned, 

directly  or  indirectly,  in  the  business  of  advertising, 
and 

B.  The  rights  of  the  many  should  not  be  sacrificed  for  the 

benefit  of  the  few.    Furthermore, 

C.  The  large  proportion  of  advertisers  whose  business  plants 

are  situated,  not  here  but  in  other  towns,  ought  justly 
to  pay  a  tax,  for 

Their  business  benefits  other  communities  far  more 
than  it  does  ours. 

D.  Even  those   advertisers  whose  factories  are  situated  in 

our  town  should  pay  a  tax,  for 
Such  a  compensation  would  be  in  the  nature  of  proper 
damages,  for 
A  conspicuous  advertisement   in   a  public  place 
forces  itself  upon  the  attention  of  every  passer- 
by in  such  a  way  that  he  cannot  escape  it,  even 
though  he  may  resent  it. 

E.  Advertisers  who  object  to  the  tax  may  use  other  methods 

of  advertising  which  are  less  objectionable  and  are  at 
the  same  time  profitable. 

IV.  The  experience  of  other  communities  has  shown  that  our 

suggestions  are  practicable,  for 

A.  Various  European  cities  —  notably  Paris  and  Berlin  — 

have  introduced  such  restrictions  without  difficulty  and 
with  entire  success.1 

B.  Certain  cities  in  our  own  country,  —  for  example,  Buffalo, 

Rochester,  Cincinnati,  and  Chicago,  —  have  been  ben- 
efitted by  steps  which  they  have  taken  in  the  direction 
of  the  reform  we  advocate.1 

1  See  Sylvester  Baxter  in  "  The  Century  "  for  January,  1907. 


SPECIMEN   BRIEFS  259 


Conclusion 

T.  The  methods  employed  in  the  display  of  out-of-door  adver- 
tisements in  tliis  town  have  become  so  offensive  to  the 
artistic  and  moral  sense  of  the  community,  that  a  reform 
is  demanded. 
II.  If  the  town  would  assume  control,  by  censorship  and  taxa- 
tion, of  this  kind  of  advertising,  —  a  method  of  restriction 
which  has  been  successfully  employed  in  other  communi- 
ties,—  the  abuses  would  disappear  and  our  citizens  would 
profit  in  various  ways. 

Note.  —  Observe  that  in  the  specimen  briefs  the  point  which  the  writer 
wishes  to  prove  —  even  if  it  is  merely  a  subordinate  point  —  is  always  fol- 
lowed by  the  proof,  and  the  connecting  link  is  the  word  "  for."  This  order, 
—  proposition  followed  by  proof,  —  must  be  strictly  maintained  throughout 
your  brief  if  you  wish  to  avoid  confusion.  "When  you  are  in  doubt  as  to 
the  proper  order  of  two  consecutive  headings,  one  of  which  proves  the 
other,  test  them  by  a  conjunction.  If  you  can  use  "  for,"  you  are  safe  ;  if 
you  have  to  use  "therefore,"  or  "consequently,"  you  must  reverse  the 
order  of  your  two  headings. 

Further,  observe  that  the  "for"  must  introduce  actual  proof, —  not 
merely  explanation.  In  the  first  of  the  following  examples  the  second 
statement  does  not  prove  the  first ;  but  in  the  second  example,  the  "  for  " 
introduces  actual  proof  : 

[Wrong  way] 

Senator  "Williams  left  the  hall  before  five  o'clock,  for 
He  had  a  headaclie. 

[Right  way] 

Senator  Williams  left  the  hall  before  five  o'clock,  for 

At   three   minutes   before   five,   Robert    Wheeler   saw   him   walking 
toward  the  railway  station. 

Bear  in  mind  that  these  instructions  apply  only  to  the  brief  proper,  not 
to  the  introduction.  Since  you  do  not  argue  in  t lie  introduction,  but 
merely  clear  the  way  for  the  argument,  the  various  headings  ami  sub- 
headings in  the  introduction  do  not  stand  in  Hie  relation  of  proposition 
am'  proof.  In  order  to  escape  confusion,  then,  it  is  best  to  avoid  altogether 
the  use  of  "  for  "  in  connecting  the  headings  in  your  introduction. 


260  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

EXERCISES  IN  ARGUMENT 
Exposition  and  Persuasion 

1.  You  are  visiting  your  cousin,  who  lives  on  a  farm  in  the 
country.  The  adjoining  farm  is  for  sale.  Write  to  your  father, 
who  lives  in  New  York  City,  describing  the  farm  and  urging  him 
to  buy  it.  Explain  (1)  why  it  is  a  good  investment ;  (2)  how  it 
could  be  made  an  attractive  summer  place ;  (3)  why  you  desire 
its  purchase. 

2.  You  have  planned  to  spend  next  summer  in  a  business 
office.  Your  uncle,  who  is  going  to  Europe,  asks  you  to  go  with 
him.  Write  to  your  parents,  telling  them  of  your  uncle's  invita- 
tion and  urging  them  to  consent. 

3.  You  are  much  interested  in  the  study  of  birds.  Write  to  a 
friend,  urging  her  to  begin  the  study.  Describe  the  manner  in 
which  you  became  interested  :  tell  her  what  equipment  is  neces- 
sary, how  and  when  she  can  begin  the  study,  and  why  it  will  be 
profitable  to  her. 

4.  Write  a  note  to  a  cousin  who  is  to  spend  the  summer  with 
you,  asking  him  to  join  with  you  in  buying  a  boat.  Give  adequate 
reasons  for  the  purchase. 

5.  Your  parents  are  planning  a  summer  vacation  and  suggest 
either  the  seashore  or  a  mountain  camp.  Write  to  them,  express- 
ing your  choice  and  giving  reasons.  Try  to  persuade  them  that 
one  plan  is  better  than  the  other. 

6.  Your  uncle  promises  you  a  year  of  study  or  a  year  of  travel. 
Your  sister  writes,  urging  you  to  choose  the  year  of  travel. 
Reproduce  her  letter. 

7.  Write  to  your  aunt  in  the  country,  urging  her  to  spend  the 
winter  with  you  in  the  city.  Show  her  that  it  will  be  pleasant 
for  her  and  agreeable  to  your  family. 

8.  A  friend  is  hesitating  between  two  schools.  Write  to  him, 
trying  to  persuade  him  that  your  school  is  the  more  desirable. 

9.  Suppose  that  the  principal  of  your  school  requests  you  to 
write  a  letter  to  the  school  committee  or  the  superintendent  of 
schools,  asking  for  a  change  in  the  paper  supplied  for  compositions. 
You  have  hitherto  been  supplied  with  paper  in  double  sheets,  but 
it  is  thought  that  single  sheets,  to  be  bound  together  by  clips 


EXERCISES   IN  ARGUMENT  261 

or  paper-fasteners,  will  be  more  convenient.  In  such  a  letter  it 
would  not  be  enough  merely  to  state  that  you  want  another  kind 
of  paper.  You  must  also  explain  why  the  paper  you  now  have  is 
inconvenient,  and  why  the  new  paper  will  be  such  an  improve- 
ment as  to  make  the  change  worth  while.  Be  sure  that  you  make 
the  school  committee  or  the  superintendent  understand  the  new 
way  of  keeping  the  compositions. 

Argument  and  Persuasion 
Subjects  for  letters,  for  debate,  or  for  extempore  speech.1 

Note.  —  Speaking  extempore  is  a  profitable  exercise.  Let  each  student 
write  his  name  upon  a  slip  of  paper,  and  a  topic  or  question  involving 
explanation  or  argument  upon  another  slip.  Put  the  names  of  the  students  in 
one  box,  the  subjects  in  another.  The  teacher  or  a  selected  student  should 
draw  a  subject  and  read  it  to  the  class,  and  then,  after  a  moment's 
pause  to  give  opportunity  for  thought,  should  draw  the  name  of  a  student. 
This  student  should  then  be  required  to  speak  for  two  minutes  on  the  sub- 
ject in  hand. 

1.  You  are  deciding  upon  your  course  of  study  in  a  school  in 
which  all  the  subjects  are  elective.  Give  reasons  for  choosing  or 
omitting  English  composition ;  algebra;  Latin;  physics. 

2.  Show  by  examples  that  a  person's  manner  of  speech  betrays 
or  does  not  betray  lack  of  education. 

3.  The  Society  for  the  Prevention  of  Cruelty  to  Animals  is 
doing  a  necessary  and  benevolent  work.  Show  reasons  for  the 
existence  of  the  society.  Show  the  effect  of  the  society  upon 
the  standards  of  the  community.  Give  examples  to  prove  that 
the  work  is  both  useful  and  benevolent. 

4.  Children  should  be  taught  to  respect  public  property. 
Why?    How? 

5.  A  city  of  separate  houses  is  better  than  a  city  of  tenements. 
(Jive  your  reasons  for  believing  this  to  be  true. 

6.  Play  is  just  as  necessary  as  work.  Show  the  effects  of  all 
work  ami  no  play;  of  all  play  and  no  work.  Give  examples 
showing  thai   alternation  of  the  two  is  the  only  good  plan. 

7.  Geoffrey  Brown  wishes  to  spend  the  summer  at  a  boys' 
camp.    He  is  a  young  student  at  an  academy.     He  writes  to  his 

1  Exercises  !<•  19  are  propositions  Cor  debate. 


262  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

father  and  mother,  urging  them  to  let  him  join  the  camping 
party.  He  tries  to  persuade  them  that  it  would  be  good  for  his 
health,  that  he  can  learn  much  from  association  with  the  masters 
and  the  other  boys,  that  the  money  required  will  be  well  spent, 
and  that  his  absence  will  be  in  some  ways  a  relief  to  his  parents. 
(1)  Write  Geoffrey's  first  letter,  outlining  the  plan.  (2)  Write 
the  father's  reply,  raising  objections.    (3)  Reply  to  the  objections. 

8.  The  town  of  Raleigh,  Missouri,  needs  a  new  building  for 
the  high  school.  Some  of  the  townspeople  wish  to  build  a  cheap 
temporary  structure  for  immediate  needs  ;  others  prefer  to  build 
for  the  future,  issuing  bonds  to  cover  the  greater  cost  of  the  better 
building.  The  subject  is  discussed  in  the  newspapers.  Write 
an  argument  for  each  side.  On  the  one  hand,  show  that  it  is 
more  economical  to  build  for  future  needs  than  to  put  money 
into  a  temporary  and  inadequate  structure.  On  the  other  hand, 
show  that  debt  is  demoralizing,  that  it  is  better  for  the  children 
to  suffer  inconvenience  than  for  the  fathers  to  be  burdened  with 
debt,  and  that  future  contingencies  may  demand  something  differ- 
ent from  the  present  plan. 

The  material  collected  for  these  newspaper  articles  may  after- 
wards be  used  in  general  debate  on  the  subject. 

9.  Members  of  the  Albion  High  School  wish  to  organize  a 
literary  society  which  shall  hold  meetings  on  Friday  afternoons 
after  school.  The  proposition  is  to  be  discussed  at  a  special 
meeting  of  the  students  called  for  the  purpose.  Prepare  argu- 
ments for  and  against  the  organization  of  the  society.  Some  of 
these  arguments  may  be  presented  from  the  students'  point  of  view  ; 
others  should  present  the  views  of  the  teachers  and  the  parents. 

In  preparing  these  arguments  cite  instances  of  other  societies 
which  have  succeeded  or  have  failed  ;  show  the  advantages  of 
such  a  voluntary  society  ;  state  the  effect  of  such  associations 
upon  other  duties,  in  school  or  at  home,  and  consider  the  expenses 
attending  the  organization. 

10.  Latin  should  be  a  prescribed  study  throughout  the  high- 
school  course. 

11.  The  science  of  housekeeping  should  be  prescribed  for  girls 
in  the  his^h  school. 

12.  Fewer  subjects  should  be  taught  in  this  school,  and  those 
more  thoroughly. 


EXERCISES  IN  ARGUMENT  263 

13.  Children  should  be  required  by  law  to  go  to  school  two 
years  longer  than  at  present. 

14.  Interscholastic  athletics  should  be  encouraged. 

15.  Receiving  pay  for  taking  part  in  athletic  sports  should  bar 
the  receiver  from  amateur  contests. 

16.  Members  of  the  Cabinet  should  have  seats,  but  no  vote,  in 
the  House  of  Representatives. 

17.  The  city  (or  town)  government  should  do  more  for  the 
support  of  the  public  library. 

18.  United  States  senators  should  be  elected  by  popular  vote. 

19.  Wide  tires  should  be  required  by  law  on  heavy  wagons. 

Subjects  for  Argument 

1.  Military  drill  should  be  introduced  into  this  school. 

2.  Coasting  should  be  permitted  in Street. 

3.  Monday  should  be  made  a  holiday  in  this  school,  in  place 
of  Saturday. 

4.  Separate  high  schools  should  not  be  maintained  in  this 
town  for  boys  and  for  girls. 

5.  Automobiles  should  not  be  allowed  in Street. 

6.  This  city  should  establish  free  public  baths. 

7.  No  immigrant  should  be  allowed  to  land  in  this  country 
who  cannot  read  and  write  some  language. 

8.  This  town  should  provide  free  text-books  for  the  schools. 

9.  This  school  should  establish  a  monthly  magazine, 

10.  The   girls'  basket-ball  team  should   be  allowed   to   play 
games  in   neighboring  towns. 

11.  An  electric  railway  should  connect  this  town  with  . 

12.  The  wearing  of  birds'  plumage   for  decorative  purposes 
should  be  forbidden  by  law. 

13.  This  town  should  establish  a,  playground  on Street. 

14.  This  town  slioulil  provide  free  public  concerts  in  the  park. 

15.  Electric  flash-light  signs  should  be  forbidden  by  law. 

16.  A  commercial  course  should   be  established  in  our  high 
school. 

17.  This  town  should  erect  a  monument  in  memory  of . 

18.  Medical  inspectors  should  be  regularly  employed  in   our 

Schools. 

19.  This  school  should  organize  an  orchestra. 


264  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

20.  This  school  should  organize  a  dramatic  club. 

21.  This  school  should  organize  a  debating  society. 

22.  Mr. should  be  elected  to  the  office  of  — 


23.  Street-pianos  should  not  be  allowed  in  this  town. 

24.  The    railway    grade    crossings    should    be    abolished    in 
this  town. 

25.  A  rural  free  delivery  post-office  route  should  be  established 
between  this  town  and 


BRIEFS 

I.  Criticise  the  following  extracts  from  briefs.  Point  out  any 
faults  in  either  the  reasoning  or  the  arrangement.  If  the  fault  is 
one  of  arrangement,  correct  it. 

1.  The  present  condition  of  the  streets  drives  business  away 

from  the  city,  for 
A.  It  makes  the  citizens  seem  shiftless  and  unprogressive. 

2.  This  country  needs  a  navy  second  to  none  in  the  world, 

for 

A.  The  defence  of  our  sea-coast,  and 

B.  The  protection  of  our  commerce  ;  hence 

1.  The   naval    appropriation    for   the    coming    year 
should  be  not  less  than  $100,000,000. 

3.  Our  present  navy  is  large  enough,  for 
A.  My  uncle  says  so,  and 

1.  He  should  know,  for  he  followed  the  sea  in  his 
yoiith. 

4.  My  opponent  objects   that   battleships    are  a  waste  of 

money,  for 
A.  One  battleship  costs  as  much  as  the  equipment  of  a 
first-class  university,  but 

1.  In  time  of  war  one  battleship  might  save  the  city 

of  New  York  from  destruction,  and 

2.  That  would  mean  a  saving  of  property  worth  hun- 

dreds of  battleships,  therefore 
a.  Battleships  are  not  a  waste  of  money. 


EXERCISES  IN  ARGUMENT  265 

5.  Women  should  not  be  allowed  to  vote,  for 

A.  They    would    be   just   as   likely  to   vote  wrong   as 
right,  for 
1.  They  never  understand  anything  about  politics, 
for 
a.  They  do  not  read  the  political  news. 

6.  Women  should  be  allowed  to  vote,  for 

A.  They  are  just  as  intelligent  as  men,  and 
1.  They  are  often  more  intelligent. 

B.  They  have  better  moral  principles  than  men,  conse- 

quently 
1.  They  would  vote  against  bad  candidates. 

C.  It  is  unchivalrous  to  prevent  women  from  voting. 

II.  Develop  from  the  following  material  a  brief  which  will  fit 
the  Introduction  printed  on  pages  221-223. 

Boys  who  are  dull  at  their  books  are  sometimes  very  clever 
with  tools. 

The  introduction  of  manual  training  into  our  schools  would 
give  such  boys  a  chance  to  win  the  respect  of  their  mates. 

Manual    training    tends   to   dispel    the    notion  that   labor    is 

degrading. 

It  sharpens  the  perceptive  faculties  better  than  most  other 

studies. 

It  puts  less  emphasis  on  mere  memory  than  most  studies  now 
taught  in  school. 

A  good  memory  is  very  useful,  but  education  should  develop 
other  faculties  also. 

Manual  training  develops  self-reliance. 

Since  a  boy  can  appreciate  the  worth  of  B thing  which  he 

has  made  with  his  own  hands  at  the  expense  of  much  time  and 
energy,  manual  training  develops  in  the  pupil  an  appreciation  for 
the  real  value  of  property. 

Manual  training  considered  as  a  "cultural  study"  has  the 
approval  of  President  Eliot,  (he  late  Presidenl  Walker,  Presided 
Hall,  Presidenl  Butler,  Dr.  Felix  Adler,  Superintendent  Maxwell. 
Superintendent  Seaver,  and  other  eminent  people  engaged  in  edu- 
cational work. 


266  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Drawing  can  be  taught  much  more  effectively  in  connection 
with  manual  training  than  by  itself. 

It  can  be  shown  that  much  of  the  unfavorable  criticism  of 
manual  training  as  a  "  cultural  study  "  is  directed  against  schools 
in  which  the  subject  is  badly  taught,  since  the  teachers  allow  the 
pupils  to  perform  their  exercises  in  a  purely  automatic  way  with- 
out sufficient  use  of  their  reasoning  powers.  Such  a  teacher  misses 
the  real  object  of  manual  training,  which  is  to  develop  the  boy,  — 
not  to  produce  articles  of  commercial  value. 

In  other  schools  which  have  been  similarly  criticised,  the  study 
has  not  had  a  fair  trial  because  the  time  allotted  to  it  is  insuffi- 
cient. Such  schools  could  afford  more  time,  for  it  is  a  matter  of 
common  belief  that  many  subjects  are  at  present  wastefully  taught. 

Manual  training  affords  the  pupil  relief  from  his  other  studies, 
to  which  he  returns  with  his  mind  refreshed  and  invigorated. 

The  report  of  the  United  States  Commissioner  of  Education  for 
1904:  shows  that  in  1890  only  37  city  public-school  systems  had 
adopted  any  degree  of  manual  training,  that  in  1894  the  number 
increased  to  95,  in  1900  to  109,  in  1903  to  322,  and  in  1904  to  411. 

Note.  —For  further  material  in  connection  with  this  subject  the  student 
is  referred  to  the  following  sources :  "  Discussions  in  Education,"  hy  Fran- 
cis A.  Walker,  New  York,  1899 ;  "  Moral  Instruction  of  Children,"  by  Felix 
Adler,  New  York,  1902;  J.  P.  Harney  in  "Education,"  May,  1905;  L.  D. 
Harvey  in  "  Proceedings  of  the  National  Education  Association  "  for  1905; 
I.  E.  Clarke  in  "  Monographs  on  Education  in  the  United  States,"  edited  hy 
N.  M.  Butler,  No.  14 ;  "  Report  of  the  Secretary  of  the  Massachusetts  Board 
of  Education"  for  1904-5;  "Report  of  the  Massachusetts  Commission  on 
Industrial  and  Technical  Education,"  Boston,  1906;  B.  R.  Payne  in  "The 
School  Review,"  May,  1906  and  June,  1906;  "A  Conference  on  Manual 
Training  held  in  Boston,"  Boston,  1891. 

III.  Draw  up  a  brief  showing  that  the  development  of  a  power- 
ful navy  in  the  United  States  either  would  or  would  not  increase 
the  probability  of  lasting  peace.  Make  use,  if  you  choose,  of  the 
following  references  :  —  Rear  Admiral  Frederick  Rodgers,  U.S.N., 
in  the  "  Annals  of  the  American  Academy,"  Vol.  XXVI ;  R.  P. 
Hobson  in  "  The  Independent,"  April  5,  1 906  ;  W.  S.  Meriwether 
in  "Harper's  Weekly,"  March  10,  1906;  Hon.  John  D.  Long  in 
"The  Independent,"* March  23,  1905. 


CHAPTER  VI 

DRAMA 

In  studying  narration  we  have  occasionally  drawn  exam- 
ples from  the  drama  to  illustrate  some  point  or  principle. 
We  must  now  consider  the  chief  characteristics  of  dramatic 
method,  which  differs  from  narrative  method  in  several 
important  respects. 

In  the  first  place,  a  dramatist  does  not,  like  a  narrative 
writer,  tell  a  story ;  on  the  contrary,  he  brings  the  charac- 
ters themselves  before  our  eyes  and  makes  them  act  and 
speak  in  our  presence.  We  do  not  hear  about  the  incidents ; 
we  see  them  happen,  we  listen  to  what  the  characters  say 
while  they  are  happening.  In  other  words,  a  drama  is  all 
action  and  conversation.  The  dramatist  never  speaks  in  his 
own  person.  He  cannot  explain  anything;  he  cannot 
describe  anything.  Such  explanations  and  descriptions  as 
are  needed  must  be  given  by  the  characters  themselves  in 
their  conversation  with  each  other  or  in  soliloquies. 
Here  we  have  a  fundamental  distinction  between  a  drama 
and  a  story.  In  a  story,  as  we  have  seen,  the  dialogue  may 
contain  some  explanatory  or  descriptive  matter  ;  in  a  drama, 
it  must  contain  all  of  that  kind  of  material  which  tin' 
play  affords.1 

It  results  from  the  very  nature  of  the  drama  thai  the 
incidents  follow  the  order  of  time  with  absolute  strictness. 

i  The  stage-directions  may  seem  t<>  make  an  exception.    These,  however, 

are  not  Been  or  heard  by  the  audience.   They  serve  rely  to  inform  the 

actors  what  they  are  to  do.   Occasionally,  ;is  in  Shakspere's  "  Henry  V," 
a  Chorus  appears  in  order  to  furnish  accessary  explanations. 

21  IT 


268  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

In  a  novel,  Chapter  Hi,  for  instance,  may  record  events 
that  happened  before  the  time  of  Chapter  u;  for  the 
author  can  explain,  in  so  many  words,  that  he  is  going 
back  to  previous  occurrences.  The  dramatist  has  no  such 
privilege,  for  the  audience  are  actually  seeing  the  incidents 
happen,  and  they  must  see  them,  of  course,  in  the  precise 
order  in  which  they  occur.  Any  other  arrangement  would 
be  an  absurdity,  and  would  also  be  utterly  confusing. 

The  dramatist  has  less  space  at  his  disposal  than  the 
novelist.  His  play  must  be  short  enough  to  be  acted  in 
about  three  hours.  Hence  he  must  select  his  material  with 
the  greatest  care,  adopting  only  such  incidents  as  are  best 
fitted  to  advance  the  action  and  at  the  same  time  to 
characterize  the  personages.  He  must  therefore  reject 
many  good  incidents  that  a  novelist  might  include,  and 
must  rely  on  the  imagination  of  the  audience  to  bridge 
the  unavoidable  gaps.  In  thus  selecting  and  condensing, 
he  must  keep  the  proportions  right,  so  that  the  whole 
play  may  be  on  the  proper  scale.  Tins  principle  of  dra- 
matic condensation,  which  applies  to  both  the  action  and 
the  dialogue,  should  always  be  remembered  in  reading  a 
drama;  otherwise  the  progress  of  the  plot  may  seem  so 
rapid  as  to  be  unnatural.  We  should  bear  in  mind  that 
a  play  is  primarily  intended  for  stage  presentation,  not 
for  leisurely  perusal. 

The  plot  of  a  drama  must  be  such  that  it  can  be  followed 
easily  by  an  actual  audience.  Hence  it  must  be  compacter 
and  simpler  than  is  required  in  the  case  of  a  novel,  where 
explanations  and  connecting  links  are  freely  supplied  by 
the  author  himself.  Every  scene  must  be  pertinent,  and 
clearly  pertinent,  to  the  development  of  the  plot.  Di- 
gressions that  might  be  charming  in  a  novel  are  inadmis- 
sible in  a  drama.    Episodes  are  not  excluded,  but  they 


DRAMA  269 

must  be  so  closely  connected  with  the  main  action  that 
fchey  do  not  distract  the  spectator's  attention.1  The  reason 
for  all  these  restrictions  is  plain.  If  the  audience  —  or 
any  considerable  part  of  the  audience  —  lose  the  thread 
for  a  moment,  they  may  never  recover  it.  They  cannot 
stop  to  figure  the  matter  out,  for  the  play  is  moving  for- 
ward and  they  have  to  keep  pace  with  it ;  nor  can  they 
turn  back,  like  the  novel-reader,  to  refresh  their  memories 
by  consulting  a  previous  chapter.  A  good  drama  is  intel- 
ligible step  by  step,  as  it  goes  on. 

Yet  there  may  be  a  good  deal  of  complication  in  the 
plet  of  a  drama.  Indeed,  many  plays  have  what  is  called 
an  underplot,  dealing  with  the  fortunes  of  certain  minor 
characters.  But  the  connection  of  the  underplot  with  the 
principal  plot  must  always  be  brought  out  with  perfect 
clearness. 

In  "The  Merchant  of  Venice,  "for  example,  the  love  story  of 
Lorenzo  and  Jessica  does  not  stand  by  itself  ;  it  is  closely  knit  to 
the  main  action.  In  "  King  Lear,"  the  history  of  Gloster  and  his 
sons  is  not  merely  a  parallel  to  that  of  Lear  and  his  daughters  ; 
the  two  are  so  intimately  combined  that  the  ambitious  villainy  of 
Edmund  is  the  direct  cause  of  the  death  of  Cordelia  and  the 
indirect  cause  of  the  death  of  Lear. 

In  analyzing  the  structure  of  the  drama  we  may  take 
tragedy  as  the  type,  since  here,  the  different  parts  come 
out  more  clearly  and  definitely  than  in  any  other  kind  of 
dramatic  writing. 

In  the  first  place,  a  drama  seldom  begins  at  the  begin- 
ning; it  plunges  in  medias  res, —  into  the  midst  of 
events.    The.  opening  scene  introduces  us  to  some  of  the 

i  Examples  of  the  episode  are,  in  "Julius  Csesar,"  the  attack  on  Cinna 
the  poet,  and  the  quarrel  between  Brutus  and  Cassius  ;  in  "  Macbeth,"  the 
conversation  of  the  OM  Man  with  the  lords  after  the  murder  ;  in  "Ham- 
let," the  comic  interlude  ol  the  gravediggers. 


270  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

characters  in  lively  action  or  earnest  conversation.  Thus 
we  get  the  setting  and  atmosphere,  as  well  as  some  hint  of 
the  subject.  Then  follows  an  expository  scene,  which  gives 
us  what  preliminary  information  we  need. 

"Julius  Caesar,"  for  instance,  begins  with  a  scene  in  which 
the  plebeians  are  making  holiday  to  celebrate  Caesar's  triumph 
and  the  tribunes  are  rebuking  them  ;  the  next  scene  explains  the 
general  situation  and  prepares  us  for  the  conspiracy.  "Romeo 
and  Juliet "  begins  with  a  street  row  between  the  servants  of  the 
Montagues  and  those  of  the  Capulets  ;  "  Hamlet,"  with  the  senti- 
nels watching  for  the  ghost  to  appear  ;  "  Macbeth,"  with  the 
parting  of  the  Weird  Sisters  and  their  agreement  to  meet  Macbeth 
upon  the  heath.    In  each  case,  an  expository  scene  follows. 

As  soon  as  the  necessary  exposition  is  finished,  we  come 
to  the  scene  which  contains  the  moving  cause  of  the  whole 
play,  —  the  speech  or  action  which  puts  into  operation  the 
series  of  events  that  form  the  plot. 

In  "Julius  Caesar,"  the  moving  cause  is  Cassius's  urging  Brutus 
to  attack  Caesar.  In  "  Macbeth,"  it  is  the  prophecy  of  the  Weird 
Sisters;  in  "Romeo  and  Juliet,"  the  meeting  at  Capulet's  ball; 
in  "  Hamlet,"  the  ghost's  revelation  of  murder. 

The  moving  cause  incites  the  hero  to  action  with  a  defi- 
nite end  in  view.  From  this  point  he  goes  on,  step  by 
step,  each  of  his  acts  leading  in  some  way  to  that  which 
follows,  until  the  crisis  or  turning-point  is  reached.  The 
turning-point  marks  the  summit,  so  to  speak,  of  the  hero's 
efforts.  So  far  he  has  gone  forward  in  his  purposes,  and 
seems  to  have  had  control  of  events.1    Henceforth,  the 

1  Sometimes,  as  in  "  Othello,"  the  hero  is  not  represented  as  controlling 
events  in  this  way;  he  is  not  so  much  active  as  acted  upon.  Thus  the 
murder  of  Desdemona,  though  committed  by  Othello,  is  really  brought 
about  by  Iago's  perfidy.  Tragedies  of  this  type,  however,  are  compara- 
tively rare. 


DRAMA  271 

forces  that  are  hostile  to  him  become  more  and  more 
powerful  until,  despite  his  struggles,  the  catastrophe  arrives, 
bringing  with  it  his  downfall  and  death.  Then  the  play  ends 
as  soon  as  it  can ;  for  what  follows  the  catastrophe  is  only 
a  more  or  less  formal  close,  like  the  conclusion  in  a  story.1 

In  "Julius  Caesar,"  the  turning-point  is  the  assassination  of 
Caesar.  Until  this  takes  place,  Brutus  has  controlled  the  situation  ; 
after  this  point,  Antony,  his  enemy,  takes  the  lead ;  the  catas- 
trophe is  reached  with  the  death  of  Brutus  after  the  disastrous 
battle  at  Philippi ;  the  conclusion  expresses  the  success  of  An- 
tony and  Octavius,  and  contains  Antony's  eloquent  tribute  to 
Brutus's  character.  In  "Macbeth,"  the  turning-point  is  the  scene 
in  the  witches'  cavern,  with  the  prophecies  upon  which  Macbeth 
henceforth  relies.  In  "  Hamlet,"  it  is  the  killing  of  Polonius, 
whom  Hamlet  takes  for  the  king.  In  "  Romeo  and  Juliet,"  it  is 
the  death  of  Tybalt  at  Romeo's  hands. 

Note.  —  In  some  cases  there  may  be  well-founded  difference  of  opinion 
as  to  the  exact  turning-point  in  a  drama.  Where  events  follow  in  rapid 
succession,  we  cannot  always  define  the  precise  moment  at  which  a  man's 
fortunes  take  a  turn  for  the  worse.  This  difficulty,  however,  need  not  dis- 
turb us,  for  neither  life  nor  literature  is  a  theorem  in  mathematics. 

The  turning-point  in  a  drama  should  not  seem  to  depend 
on  a  merely  accidental  occurrence.  It  should  consist  in 
some  deed  of  the  hero's  which  is  the  natural  result  of 
his  previous  actions,  and  which,  like  them,  grows  out  of 
his  character.  So,  also,  the  catastrophe  should  result  natu- 
rally from  all  that  lias  gone  before.  It  should  not  appear 
to  be  the  work  of  blind  chance.  We  must  feel  that, 
circumstances  being  as  they  were,  a  person  such  as  we 
have  been  observing  would  not  have  acted  otherwise  than 
the  hero  has  acted,  and  that  his  actions  could  have  but 
one  final  outcome, —  disaster  and  death.  The  fact  that 
what  appeared  to  be  the  greatest  or  most  successful  deed 
of  the  hero's  life  is  the  cause  of  his  ruin,  is  what  makes 

■  See  pp.  16  19. 


272  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

the  play  properly  tragic,  not  the  mere  fact  that  he  meets 
his  death,  or  that  the  stage  is  drenched  with  blood  in  the 
fifth  act. 

In  what  has  been  said  of  the  inevitability  of  the  catas- 
trophe, it  is  not  implied  that  tragedy  is  what  we  call 
"  fatalistic."  The  determining  cause  of  everything  is  not 
blind  fate,  but  the  character  of  the  hero,  acting  upon 
events  in  a  certain  environment  and  under  certain  con- 
ditions. It  is  rather  law  than  fate  that  rules  the  action. 
If  a  man  touches  a  hot  iron,  he  will  be  burned,  —  but 
we  do  not  call  this  necessity  "fate." 

Accidents,  too,  are  not  excluded  from  tragedy ;  other- 
wise tragedy  would  be  untrue  to  life.  The  accidents,  how- 
ever, should  be  such  as  might  probably  occur,  and  such 
as  the  hero  subjected  himself  to  when  he  adopted  a  cer- 
tain course  of  action. 

In  one  sense,  the  death  of  Polonins  is  an  accident ;  but  in 
another  sense,  it  is  the  direct  outcome  of  Hamlet's  character. 
One  who,  like  Hamlet,  acts  suddenly  and  blindly  upon  impulse 
after  long  delay  and  deliberation,  must  expect  such  accidents  to 
happen.  And,  in  general,  if  we  drive  a  sword  through  the  arras 
without  knowing  who  is  there,  we  may  be  sure  that  we  shall  now 
and  then  kill  the  wrong  man.  There  are  accidents  in  "  Romeo  and 
Juliet "  also,  but  every  one  of  them  can  be  justified  on  tragic 
principles. 

The  method  of  the  climax  is  even  more  important  in  a 
drama  than  in  a  novel.  The  interest  must  rise  steaddy 
till  it  reaches  its  highest  pitch  at  the  catastrophe.  There 
are,  to  be  sure,  certain  scenes  in  every  play  which  mark  a 
rest  or  lull  in  the  action,1  —  scenes  which  give  information 

1  Such  are,  in  "  Macbeth,"  the  conversation  between  Duncan  and  Banquo 
before  Macbeth's  castle,  and  the  Porter's  soliloquy;  in  "Julius  Csesar," 
the  passage  in  which  Artemidorus  reads  his  letter,  and  the  dialogue 
between  Brutus  and  Portia. 


DRAMA  273 

or  serve  as  connecting  links.    But  these  do  not  diminish 
or  interrupt  the  suspense  in  which  the  audience  is  held. 

Note.  —  The  turning-point  of  a  drama  is  often  called  the  climax,  but 
this  is  an  unfortunate  use  of  terms.  The  turning-point  marks,  to  be  sure, 
the  moment  of  most  intense  activity  on  the  hero's  part  or  the  culmination 
of  his  fortunes  ;  but  it  does  not  mark  the  highest  pitch  of  the  interest. 
If  it  did,  the  latter  part  of  the  play  would  fall  flat,  and  nobody  would  wait 
for  the  end. 

A  comedy,  unlike  a  tragedy,  has  a  happy  ending.  The 
turning-point,  therefore,  marks  the  moment  when  the 
hero's  embarrassments  or  misfortunes  are  at  their  height, 
and  the  catastrophe  brings  his  final  deliverance  from  his 
troubles. 

Thus,  in  "  The  Merchant  of  Venice,"  the  turning-point  is 
Shylock's  insistence  on  the  pound  of  flesh  ;  the  catastrophe  is 
the  rescue  of  Antonio  by  Portia's  shrewdness  in  interpreting 
the  bond. 

Comedies,  however,  show  great  variety  in  form,  struc- 
ture, and  plot,  and  are  therefore  not  so  easily  analyzed  as 
tragedies.  Sometimes  the  interest  of  a  comedy  lies  rather 
in  the  portrayal  of  life  and  manners  than  in  the  story,  and 
in  such  cases,  the  plot  is  of  course  a  subordinate  matter. 
The  distinctions  as  to  subject  are,  in  general,  those  that 
have  already  been  pointed  out  in  the  case  of  novels  and 
short  stories  (pp.  75-76). 


Part  II 
PARAGRAPHS,  SENTENCES,  WORDS 


Part  II 

PAEAGEAPHS,  SENTENCES,  WOEDS 

INTRODUCTORY 

In  Part  I  we  have  studied  the  principles  of  narration, 
description,  exposition,  and  argument.  Our  study,  how- 
ever, has  dealt  chiefly  with  the  general  structure  of  the 
essay  or  other  piece  of  writing.  We  must  now  turn  our 
attention  to  matters  of  detail  and  consider  the  rhetorical 
elements  of  which  every  composition  is  made  up,  —  para- 
graphs, sentences,  and  words. 

The  principles  to  be  discussed  in  Part  II  bear  equally 
on  all  the  forms  of  discourse,  but  their  precise  application 
depends  on  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  on  the  manner 
in  which  it  is  treated. 

CHAPTER  I 

PARAGRAPHS 

THE  PARAGRAPH   IX   GENERAL 

Every  piece  of  prose  of  any  length  is  divided  into 
paragraphs.  In  writing  and  printing,  the  first  line  of 
each  paragraph  is  indented,  —  that  is,  it  begins  a  little 
farther  to  the  right  than  the  other  lines.    A  very  brief 

277 


278  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

composition,  relating  to  a  single  point,  is  also  called  a 
paragraph. 

Note.  —  The  name  paragraph  comes  from  two  Greek  words  and  means 
"  something  written  at  the  side."  It  was  originally  applied  to  the  mark  f\, 
which  was  put  in  the  margin  to  call  attention  to  the  beginning  of  a  new 
division  of  the  writing  ;  later  the  name  was  transferred  to  the  division 
itself. 

The  object  of  paragraphing  is  to  give  notice  when  a  new 
point  (or  topic)  is  taken  up,  and  thus  to  mark  the  natural 
divisions  of  the  composition.  Well-constructed  paragraphs 
correspond  to  such  natural  divisions,  and  therefore  assist 
the  reader  in  following  the  thought ;  bad  paragraphs,  on 
the  contrary,  tend  to  confuse  and  mislead  him.  Skilful 
paragraphing,  then,  is  necessary  in  every  kind  of  writing, 
and  especially  necessary  in  exposition  and  argument. 

In  reporting  a  conversation,  every  speech,  however 
short,  is  usually  written  or  printed  as  a  paragraph.  The 
object  of  this  rule  is  to  make  the  course  of  the  dialogue 
instantly  clear  to  the  reader's  eye.  See  pages  19  and  38 
for  examples. 

UNITY  OF  THE  PAEAGKAPH 

Since  the  object  of  paragraphing  is  to  mark  the  natural 
divisions  of  a  composition,  it  is  evident  that  each  para- 
graph must  deal  with  a  single  thought  or  a  group  of  con- 
nected ideas,  and  that  it  should  include  nothing  which  is 
not  to  the  point.  In  other  words,  the  essential  quality  of 
a  good  paragraph  is  unity. 

In  the  following  extract  from  Buskin,  we  might  easily 
give  each  paragraph  a  brief  title  which  would  indicate 
its  contents.  Thus  the  first  paragraph  might  be  entitled, 
"  The  Air  in  the  Bird  " ;  the  second,  "  The  Voice  of  the 
Bird  " ;  the  third,  "  The  Plumage  of  the  Bird."    It  would 


UNITY  OF   THE  PARAGRAPH  279 

also  be  possible  to  express  the  substance  of  each  para- 
graph in  a  sentence :  (1)  "  The  bird  is  little  more  than  a 
drift  of  the  air  brought  into  form  by  plumes  "  ;  (2)  "  Into 
the  throat  of  the  bird  is  given  the  voice  of  the  air " ; 
(3)  "Upon  the  plumes  of  the  bird  are  put  the  colors  of 
the  an." 

THE  BIRD 

The  bird  is  little  more  than  a  drift  of  the  air  brought  into 
form  by  plumes  ;  the  air  is  in  all  its  quills,  it  breathes  through  its 
whole  frame  and  flesh,  and  glows  with  air  in  its  flying,  like  blown 
flame  :  it  rests  upon  the  air,  subdues  it,  surpasses  it,  outraces  it ; 
—  is  the  air,  conscious  of  itself,  conquering  itself,  ruling  itself. 

Also,  into  the  throat  of  the  bird  is  given  the  voice  of  the  air. 
All  that  in  the  wind  itself  is  weak,  wild,  useless  in  sweetness,  is 
knit  together  in  its  song.  As  we  may  imagine  the  wild  form  of 
the  cloud  closed  into  the  perfect  form  of  the  bird's  wings,  so  the 
wild  voice  of  the  cloud  into  its  ordered  and  commanded  voice  ; 
unwearied,  rippling  through  the  clear  heaven  in  its  gladness, 
interpreting  all  intense  passion  through  the  soft  spring  nights, 
bursting  into  acclaim  and  rapture  of  choir  at  daybreak,  or  lisping 
and  twittering  among  the  boughs  and  hedges  through  heat  of 
day,  like  little  winds  that  only  make  the  cowslip  bells  shake,  and 
ruffle  the  petals  of  the  wild  rose. 

Also,  upon  the  plumes  of  the  bird  are  put  the  colors  of  the  air  : 
on  these  the  gold  of  the  cloud,  that  cannot  be  gathered  by  any 
covetousness  ;  the  rubies  of  the  clouds,  the  vermilion  of  the  cloud- 
bar,  and  the  flame  of  the  cloud-crest,  and  the  snow  of  the  cloud, 
and  its  shadow,  and  the  melted  blue  of  the  deep  wells  of  the  sky  — 
all  these,  seized  by  the  creating  spirit,  and  woven  into  iilnis  and 
threads  of  plume  ;  with  wave  on  wave  following  and  Eading  along 
breast,  and  throat,  and  opened  wings,  infinite  as  the  dividing  of 
the  foam  and  the  sifting  of  the  sea-sand  ;  —  even  the  white  down 
of  the  cloud  seeming  to  flutter  up  between  the  stronger  plumes, 
seen,  but  too  soft  for  touch. 

The  exrjeriiuciif  which  wo,  have  just  tried  with  lliis 
passage  From   Ruskin  is  the  simplest  test  for  unity.    If  a 


280  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

paragraph  does  not  stand  this  test,  —  if  its  contents  can- 
not be  summed  up  in  a  phrase  or  a  sentence,  —  it  is 
probably  not  a  unit  or  organic  whole. 

A  sentence  which  sums  up  the  contents  of  a  paragraph 
is  often  called  a  topic  sentence  (p.  168).  Sometimes,  as  in 
the  passage  which  we  have  been  studying,  the  author 
himself  uses  such  a  sentence  to  begin  a  paragraph. 

Macaulay's  "  Siege  of  Arcot "  (pp.  395-399)  is  a  series 
of  admirably  constructed  paragraphs,  each  of  which  might 
easily  be  summed  up  in  a  topic  sentence. 

The  first  paragraph  describes  the  events  leading  up  to  Clive's 
seizure  of  Arcot ;  the  second  recounts  the  swift  preparations  for  the 
siege  ;  the  third  enumerates  the  forces  of  the  besiegers ;  the  fourth 
tells  of  the  weakness  of  the  place  besieged ;  the  fifth,  of  the  hard- 
ships of  the  garrison  and  their  faithfulness,  —  and  so  on  to  the  end. 

It  is  obvious  that  the  explanation  could  not  have  been  so 
clear,  and  the  natural  progress  of  the  story  so  distinct,  if 
unity  had  not  been  carefully  observed  in  the  construction 
of  every  paragraph. 

The  following  paragraphs  illustrate  the  principle  of 
unity  in  different  kinds  of  writing:  — 

1.  Whatever  your  amusements,  or  pleasures,  may  be  at  Ham- 
burg, I  dare  say  you  taste  them  more  sensibly  than  ever  you  did 
in  your  life,  now  that  you  have  business  enough  to  whet  your 
appetite  to  them.  Business,  one  half  of  the  day,  is  the  best  prep- 
aration for  the  pleasures  of  the  other  half.  I  hope  and  believe 
that  it  will  be  with  you  as  it  was  with  an  apothecary  whom  I 
knew  at  Twickenham.  A  comfortable  estate  fell  to  him  by  an 
unexpected  accident ;  upon  which  he  thought  it  decent  to  leave 
off  his  business.  Accordingly,  he  generously  gave  up  his  shop  and 
lhis  stock  to  his  head  man,  set  up  his  coach,  and  resolved  to  live 
like  a  gentleman.  But  in  less  than  a  month  the  man,  used  to 
business,  found  that  living  like  a  gentleman  was  dying  of  ennui; 
upon  which  he  bought  his  shop  and  stock,  resumed  his  trade,  and 
lived  very  happily  after  he  had  something  to  do.  — Chesterfield. 


UNITY  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH  281 

2.  Shenstone,  my  clearest  cousin,  in  his  commentary  on  the  vul- 
gar adage  which  says,  "Second  thoughts  are  best,"  observes  that 
the  third  thought  generally  resolves  itself  into  the  first.  Thus  it 
has  happened  to  me.  My  first  thought  was  to  effect  a  transposi- 
tion of  the  old  glasses  into  the  new  frame ;  my  second,  that  per- 
haps both  the  old  glasses  and  the  new  frame  might  be  broken  in 
the  experiment ;  and  my  third,  nevertheless  to  make  the  trial. 
Accordingly  I  walked  down  to  Olney  this  day,  referred  the  mat  ter 
to  the  watchmaker's  consideration,  and  he  has  succeeded  in  the 
attempt  to  a  wonder.  I  am  at  this  moment  peering  through  the 
same  medium  as  usual,  but  with  the  advantage  of  a  more 
ornamental  mounting.  —  Cowper. 

3.  There  are  a  thousand  familiar  disputes  which  reason  can 
never  decide  ;  questions  that  elude  investigation  and  make  logic 
ridiculous ;  cases  where  something  must  be  done  and  little  can  be 
said.  Consider  the  state  of  mankind,  and  inquire  how  few  can  be 
supposed  to  act  upon  any  occasion,  either  small  or  great,  with  all 
the  reasons  of  action  present  to  their  minds.  Wretched  would  be 
the  pair,  above  all  names  of  wretchedness,  who  should  be  doomed 
to  adjust  by  reason  every  morning  all  the  minute  detail  of  a 
domestic  day.  —  Johnson. 

4.  Pope,  though  a  genius  of  a  less  masculine  order  than  Dryden, 
and  not  possessed  of  his  numbers  or  his  impulsiveness,  had  more 
delicacy  and  fancy,  has  left  more  passages  that  have  become  pro- 
verbial, and  was  less  confined  to  the  region  of  matter  of  fact. 
Dryden  never  soared  above  earth,  however  nobly  he  walked  it. 
The  little  fragile  creature  had  wings  ;  and  he  could  expand  them 
at  will,  and  ascend,  if  to  no  great  imaginative  height,  yet  In 
charming  fairy  circles  just  above  those  of  the  world  about  him, 
disclosing  enchanting  visions  at  the  top  of  drawing-rooms,  and 
enabling  us  to  see  the  spirits  that  wait  on  coffee-cups  and  hoop- 
petticoats Leigh  Hunt. 

Each  of  these  four  examples  might  be  summed  up  in  a 
topic  sentence  us  follows:  — 

1.  You  cannot  be  happy  unless  you  have  something  to  do. 

2.  Third  thoughts  are  often  the  same  ;is  first  thoughts. 

3.  The  details  of  life  cannot  always  lie  settled  by  reason. 

4.  Tope  was  less  vigorous  than  Dryden  but  more  imaginative. 


282  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

USE  OF  THE  TOPIC   SENTENCE 

The  best  way  to  ensure  unity  in  paragraphs  is  to  decide 
beforehand  what  shall  be  put  into  each.  If  the  subject 
with  which  you  are  dealing  is  simple  and  the  paragraph 
is  to  be  pretty  short,  jot  clown  on  paper  a  word  or  a 
phrase  to  fix  the  point  in  mind.  Such  a  word  or  phrase 
makes  a  natural  title  for  the  paragraph. 

When,  however,  your  paragraphs  become  longer,  —  either 
because  the  subject  is  more  complicated,  or  because  you 
are  writing  on  a  larger  scale,  ■ —  it  is  not  so  easy  to  be  sure 
of  their  unity.  In  an  exposition  of  baseball,  for  example, 
if  you  brought  together  into  one  paragraph  the  various 
topics  which  concern  the  pitcher,  you  would  have  to 
include  some  which  concern  the  batter  quite  as  much,  — 
such  as  fair  ball,  base  on  balls,  drop  curve,  and  the  like. 
How  can  you  decide  in  which  paragraph  these  topics 
belong?  The  simplest  way  is  to  sum  up  the  substance 
of  what  you  have  to  say  about  the  pitcher  in  such  a  sen- 
tence as,  "The  pitcher  should  throw  the  ball  over  the 
home  plate  at  the  proper  height  and  so  as  to  elude 
the  batter."  If  you  keep  such  a  topic  sentence  before  you 
as  you  construct  the  paragraph,  you  can  readily  decide 
whether  a  given  topic  should  be  included  or  omitted. 

That  this  is  a  practical  device  may  easily  be  proved  by 
applying  it  to  any  good  piece  of  exposition.  In  Grey's 
"Kangaroo  Hunt"  (pp.  147-148),  for  example,  the  succes- 
sive paragraphs  may  be  summed  up  in  the  following  sen- 
tences :  —  (1)  "In  the  search  for  kangaroo  the  native  keeps 
every  nerve  on  the  alert."  (2)  "  The  kangaroo  is  easily 
alarmed."  (3)  "  The  native  shows  great  skill  in  stalking 
the  kangaroo."  In  every  well-planned  exposition,  and  in 
many  narratives  and  descriptions,  we  can  readily  make 


BEGINNING  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH  283 

a  summary  of  each  paragraph  in  a  single  topic  sentence. 
Moreover,  if  we  put  these  sentences  together,  we  shall 
generally  find  that  we  have  a  pretty  good  summary  of 
the  whole  composition.  Thus  a  skilful  author  illustrates 
the  old  fable  of  "  breaking  the  bundle  of  sticks  " :  by  tak- 
ing up  each  part  of  his  subject  separately,  he  makes  the 
whole  easy  to  comprehend. 

Your  topic  sentences  will  also  serve  as  a  test  of  unity 
after  you  have  written  your  paragraphs.  If  you  find  any- 
thing in  any  paragraph  which  cannot  fairly  be  regarded  as 
covered  by  the  topic  sentence,  it  should  either  be  cut  out, 
or  transferred  to  some  other  paragraph. 

Note. —It  would  be  pedantic  to  insist  that  every  paragraph  should  be 
summarized  in  a  sentence;  in  many  cases  a  single  word  will  show  the 
unity  better.  In  general,  the  paragraphs  of  an  exposition  admit  more 
readily  of  being  summarized  in  a  sentence  than  the  paragraphs  of  nar- 
ration or  pure  (literary)  description.  Thus  in  an  exposition  the  topic 
sentences  will  often  correspond  exactly  to  the  divisions  of  the  plan  or 
outline  (see  pp.  107-1G8). 

BEGINNING  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH 

In  practice  the  unity  of  the  paragraph  must  somehow 
be  brought  home  to  the  reader.  A  simple  and  effectual 
way  to  accomplish  this  is  to  make  the  first  sentence  indi- 
cate the  subject  of  the  paragraph.  This  method  is  especially 
useful  in  expositions,  and  in  narratives  which  have  an 
explanatory  purpose. 

In  the  "  Siege  of  Arcot,"  the  sentences  at  the  beginning 
of  the  first  five  paragraphs  are  as  follows:  — 

1 .  Clive  was  now  twenty-five  years  old. 

2.  But  Clive  well  knew  that  he  should  not  be  suffered  to  retain 
undisturbed  possession  of  his  conquest. 

:;.  The  intelligence  of  these  events  was  soon  carried  to  ('lunula 
Sahib,  who,  with  his  French  allies,  was  hesieging  Trichinopoly. 


284  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

4.  Rajah  Sahib  proceeded  to  invest  the  fort  of  Arcot,  which 
seemed  quite  incapable  of  sustaining  a  siege. 

5.  During  fifty  days  the  siege  went  on. 

These  five  sentences  give  us  a  tolerable  idea  of  what 
Macaulay  was  writing  about,  as  may  be  seen  by  compar- 
ing them  with  the  statement  of  the  substance  of  the  para- 
graphs (p.  280).  He  has  carefully  set  up  signposts  to 
announce  the  subject  of  each  paragraph  as  he  came  to  it. 

CLOSE  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH 

We  have  seen  that  a  paragraph  may  begin  with  a  sen- 
tence which  states,  in  compact  form,  the  subject  of  which 
the  paragraph  is  to  treat.  For  the  same  reason,  it  is  often 
wise  to  sum  up  the  point  or  essence  of  a  paragraph  in  the 
closing  sentence.  In  "The  Siege  of  Arcot"  (pp.  395-399), 
the  last  sentence  of  the  first  paragraph  states  the  first  result 
of  Olive's  swift  action;  the  last  sentence  of  the  second  sums 
up  his  defensive  sortie ;  the  last  sentence  of  the  third  gives 
the  numbers  and  the  commander  of  the  besieging  force, 
In  each  case,  the  substance  of  the  paragraph  is  left  in 
the  reader's  mind  by  virtue  of  the  clear  and  compact 
statement  in  the  closing  sentence.  Such  a  sentence  is 
particularly  effective  if  it  is  brief,  vigorous,  and  strikingly 
expressed,  so  as  to  rouse  the  attention  and  dwell  in  the 
memory.  Burke,  in  Iris  "  Speech  on  Fox's  East  India 
Bill,"  has  such  a  close  in  the  following  paragraph,  in  which 
he  argues  that  Parliament  should  control  the  administra- 
tion of  India,  in  spite  of  the  charter  of  the  East  India 
Company :  — 

That  the  power  notoriously,  grossly  abused  has  been  bought 
from  us  is  very  certain.  But  this  circumstance,  which  is  urged 
against  the  bill,  becomes  an  additional  motive  for  our  interference, 


TRANSITION  AND  COHERENCE  l's:> 

lest  we  should  be  thought  to  have  sold  the  blood  of  millions  of 
men  for  the  base  consideration  of  money.  We  sold,  I  admit, 
all  that  we  had  to  sell,  — that  is,  our  authority,  not  our  control. 
We  had  not  a  right  to  male  a  market  of  our  duties. 

A  few  additional  examples  of  this  method  of  closing  a 
paragraph  will  now  be  given  for  reference. 

Macaulay,  in  his  argument  to  justify  Milton's  political  actions, 
ends  a  paragraph  with  this  sentence  :  —  "If  these  things  do  not 
justify  resistance,  the  Revolution  was  treason  ;  if  they  do,  the 
Great  Rebellion  was  laudable." 

Chatham,  in  his  "  Speech  on  Removing  the  Troops  from  Bos- 
ton," closes  a  paragraph  in  which  he  has  insisted  on  the  folly  of 
the  ministers  who  wish  to  use  force  against  the  Americans,  as 
follows  :  —  "  They  have  not  a  move  left  ;  they  are  checkmated." 

Burke,  in  his  "  Speech  on  Opening  the  Impeachment  of  War- 
ren Hastings,"  closes  a  paragraph  describing  Hastings  as  "  the 
head  of  the  whole  body  of  Eastern  offenders  "  with  the  short  and 
pointed  sentence,  "  You  strike  at  the  whole  corps,  if  you  strike  at 
the  head." 

Compare  the  passages  from  Byron  and  Thackeray  (pp.  299, 318). 

If  you  follow  the  suggestion  on  page  282,  and  write  a 
sentence  to  test  the  unity  of  each  of  your  own  paragraphs, 
such  a  sentence  will  often  serve  either  to  open  or  to  close 
the  paragraph  in  a  manner  that  will  emphasize  this  unity. 

TRANSITION  AND  COHERENCE 

Though  regard  for  unity  will  do  much  to  make  a  com- 
position easy  and  pleasant  to  read,  yet  unity  alone  will 
not  suffice.  The  different  portions  of  an  essay  —  the  sev- 
eral paragraphs  and  sentences-  may  observe  tins  principle 
and  still  be  so  distinct  from  each  other  thai  the  whole  will 
seem  choppy  and  disjointed.  To  avoid  this  fault  and  to 
make  the  paragraph  and  the  whole  composition  coherent,1 

i  See  also  pp.  177  ISO. 


286  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

it  is  necessary  to  be  careful  about  tbe  transition 1  from  sen- 
tence to  sentence  and  from  paragraph  to  paragraph. 

The  transition  from  paragraph  to  paragraph  should  be  so 
smooth  that  the  reader  will  feel  no  break  in  the  thought, 
but  merely  a  natural  and  easy  step  forward.  This  result 
may  be  accomplished  hi  various  ways. 

A  simple  and  useful  device  is  to  begin  a  paragraph  with 
a  word  or  group  of  words  referring  to  something  mentioned  in 
the  paragraph  that  precedes.  Pronouns  and  demonstrative 
words  are  often  employed  for  this  purpose.  If  the  refer- 
ence is  to  the  very  end  of  the  preceding  paragraph,  the 
transition  becomes  particularly  easy. 

In  the  following  examples,  the  close  of  one  paragraph 
and  the  opening  of  the  next  are  given,  and  the  transitional 
word,  phrase,  or  sentence  is  italicized :  — - 

1.  The  neighbors  looked  upon  him  with  a  mixture  of  awe, 
admiration,  and  good  will ;  and  when  any  madcap  prank  or  rustic 
brawl  occurred  in  the  vicinity,  always  shook  their  heads,  and 
warranted  Brom  Bones  was  at  the  bottom  of  it. 

This  rantipole  hero  had  for  some  time  singled  out  the  blooming 
Katrina  for  the  object  of  his  uncouth  gallantries.  —  Irving. 

2.  At  any  rate,  he  was  as  tenderly  grateful  for  kindness  as  he 
was  susceptible  of  slight  and  wrong  ;  and,  lonely  as  he  was  gener- 
ally, yet  had  one  or  two  very  warm  friendships  for  his  companions 
of  those  days. 

One  of  these  was  a  queer  gentleman  that  resided  in  the  univer- 
sity, though  he  was  no  member  of  it,  and  was  the  professor  of  a 
science  scarce  recognized  in  the  common  course  of  college  educa- 
tion. —  Thackeray. 

3.  We  gained  the  ridge  of  the  hill,  and  for  the  first  time  came 
in  sight  of  the  buffalo  on  the  plain  beyond. 

They  were  a  band  of  cores,  four  or  five  hundred  in  number,  who 
were  crowded  together  near  the  bank  of  a  wide  stream  that  was 
soaking  across  the  sand-beds  of  the  valley.  —  Parkman. 

1  Transition  (from  the  Latin  trans,  "  across,"  and  ire,  "  to  go  ")  means 
simply  "  the  act  or  process  of  passing  over." 


TRANSITION  AND  COHERENCE  287 

4.  Shaking  us  warmly  by  the  hand,  he  led  the  way  into  the  area. 
Here  we  saw  his  large  Santa  F6  wagons  standing  together.  — 

Par  km  ax. 

5.  I  then  took  off  my  spectacles,  and,  waiting  about  an  hour, 
till  the  tide  was  a  little  fallen,  I  waded  through  the  middle  with 
my  cargo,  and  arrived  safe  in  the  royal  port  of  Lilliput. 

The  emperor  and  his  ivhole  court  stood  on  the  shore,  expecting  the 
Issue  of  this  great  adventure.    When  they  saw,  etc.  —  Swift. 

6.  Wafer  bread-and-butter  and  sponge  biscuits  were  all  that 
the  Honorable  Mrs.  Jamieson  gave  ;  and  she  was  sister-in-law  to 
the  late  Earl  of  Glenmire,  although  she  did  practice  such  "  elegant 

economy." 

"  Elegant  economy  ! "  How  naturally  one  falls  back  into  the 
phraseology  of  Cranford  ! — Mrs.  Gaskell. 

7.  He  ran  swiftly,  till  want  of  breath  compelled  him  to  slacken 
his  pace  as  he  was  entering  the  village  at  the  turning  close  to  the 
Rainbow7. 

The  Rainbow,  in  Marner's  view,  was  a  place  of  luxurious  resort 
for  rich  and  stout  husbands,  whose  wives  had  superfluous  stores 
of  linen.  —  George  Eliot. 

8.  It  was  early  in  the  year  ;  but  as  soon  as  the  weather  was 
auspieieus-and  the  spring  began  to  melt  into  the  verge  of  summer, 
we  took  rod  in  hand  and  sallied  into  the  country,  as  stark  mad 
as  was  ever  Don  Quixote  from  reading  books  of  chivalry. 

One  of  our  party  had  equalled  the  Don  in  the  fulness  of  his 
equipments,  being  attired  cap-a-pie  for  the  enterprise.  —  Irving. 

9.  The  stranger's  conversation,  which  was  at  once  pleasing  and 
instructive,  induced  me  to  wish  for  a  continuance  of  it  ;  but  it 
was  now  high  time  to  retire  and  take  refreshment  against  the 
fatigues  of  the  following  day. 

The  next  morning,  we  all  set  forward  together.  —  GOLDSMITH. 

10.  At  the  approach  of  evening  he  took  leave;  but  not  till  he 
had  requested  permission  to  renew  his  visit,  which,  as  lie  was  our 
landlord,  we  most  readily  agreed  to. 

As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  my  wife  called  a  council  on  the  conduct 
of  the  day.  — Goldsmith. 

Similar]y,in  Hawthorne's  "  Tan  glewood  Torch  "  (pp.  391  393), 
the  last  sentence  of  tin-  first  paragraph  mentions  "the  morning 
mist,"  and  the  second  paragraph   begins,   "  This  body   of  white 


f 


288  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

vapor"  ;  the  fourth  closes  with  "earthly  children,"  and  the  fifth 
begins,  "  It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  little  folks  "  ;  the  fifth 
ends  with  the  name  "  Eustace  Bright,"  and  the  sixth  begins, 
"This  learned  student." 

In  Mrs.  Carlyle's  "  Housekeeping  "  (pp.  393-395),  the  transi- 
tions are  similarly  managed.  "  Shall  I  tell  you  how  it  came  into 
my  head  ?  "  refers  back  to  "  when  I  found  it  out  for  myself  "  ;  "  It 
behooved  me  in  these  astonishing  circumstances,"  to  the  state  of 
things  just  described  ;  "Sol  .  .  .  fell  to  work  at  a  loaf  of  bread," 
to  "  it  was  plainly  my  duty  ...  to  bake  at  home "  ;  "  One 
o'clock  struck,"  to  "I  remained  the  only  person  not  asleep"; 
"  It  was  then"  to  "  I  laid  down  my  head  on  the  table  and  sobbed 
aloud  " ;  "  This  germ  of  an  idea,"  to  the  idea  expressed  in  what 
immediately  precedes. 

The  method  of  transition  just  illustrated  is  not  a  mere 
trick  of  style.  To  employ  it  successfully,  we  must  so  arrange 
our  sentences  that  the  last  thing  mentioned  in  one  para- 
graph shall  naturally  come  first  in  the  next.  And  this  is 
impossible  without  an  orderly  and  logical  succession  in  the 
ideas  which  the  sentences  express. 

Sometimes  the  last  sentence  of  a  paragraph  refers  forward 
in  plain  terms  to  the  next  paragraph,  announcing  what  its 
topic  is 'to  he.  This  device  is  common  in  introductions, 
or  in  passing  from  one  division  of  a  subject  to  another. 
Thus,  — 

1.  I  have  thus  far,  to  the  best  of  my  knowledge,  been  an  up- 
right judge  betwixt  the  parties  in  competition,  [Ovid  and  Chaucer,] 
not  meddling  with  the  design  nor 1  the  disposition  of  it  ;  because 
the  design  was  not  their  own,  and  in  the  disposing  of  it  they 
were  equal.    It  remains  that  I  say  somewhat  of  Chaucer  in  particular . 

In  the  first  place,  as  he  is  the  father  of  English  poetry,  so  I  hold 
him  in  the  same  degree  of  veneration  as  the  Grecians  held  Homer, . 
or  the  Romans  Virgil.  —  Dryden. 

2.  The  grounds  of  so  singular  and  wide  a  popularity  [as  that  of 
Burns],  which  extends,  in  a  literal  sense,  from  the  palace  to  the 

1  See  p.  12,  note  2. 


TRANSITION  AND  COHERENCE  289 

hut,  and  over  all  regions  where  the  English  tongue  is  spoken,  are 
well  worth  inquiring  into.  After  every  just  deduction,  it  seems 
to  imply  some  rare  excellence.     What  is  that  excellence? 

To  answer  this  question  will  not  lead  us  far.    The  excellence 
of  Burns  is,  etc.  —  Caklyle. 

3.  AVe  come  now  to  a  humor  that  flows  from  quite  a  different 
heart  and  spirit,  —  a  wit  that  makes  us  laugh  and  leaves  us  good 
and  happy  ;  and  one  of  the  kindest  benefactors  that  society  has 
ever  had ;  and  /  believe  you  have  divined  already  that  I  am  about  to 
mention  Addison's  honored  name. 

From  reading  over  his  writings,  and  the  biographies  we  have 
of  him,  etc.  —  Thackeray. 

4.  There  is  nothing  which  I  dread  so  much  as  the  being  left 
alone  for  a  quarter  of  an  hour  with  a  sensible,  well-informed  man 
that  does  not  know  me.    /  lately  (jot  into  a  dilemma  of  this  sort. 

In  one  of  my  daily  jaunts  between  Bishopsgate  and  Shacklewell, 
the   coach   stopped  to  take   up   a   staid-looking    gentleman,  etc. 

—  Lamb. 

Transition  is  often  accomplished  by  means  of  a  word 
like  moreover,  notwithstanding,  however,  or  nevertheless;  or 
a  phrase  like  in  addition  to,  on  the  other  hand,  in  spite 
of,  or  the  like.  Such  words  or  phrases  give  notice,  as  it 
were,  how  the  new  paragraph  bears  on  the  preceding  one ; 
that  it  carries  on  the  thought  in  the  same  direction,  and 
adds  to  its  force ;  or  that  it  modifies  it,  or  perhaps  counter- 
acts its  effect  or  refutes  it.  The  variety  of  such  words  and 
]  >b  rases  is  very  great ;  but  they  all  serve  the  same  purpose, 

—  to  conduct  the  reader  smoothly  and  easily  from  one  para- 
graph to  another.    For  example :  — 

1.  A  sentiment  may  be  changed  by  being  put  into  a  pointed  and 
oratorical  form,  yet  may  still  lie  very  effective  in  that  form  ;  but 
a  description,  the  moment  it  takes  its  eyes  off  that  which  it  is  to 
describe,  and  begins  to  think  of  ornamenting  itself,  is  worthless. 

Th erefore,  I  say,  the  translator  of  Homer  should  penetrate  him- 
self with  a  sense  of  the  plainness  and  directness  of  Homer's  style 

—  Matthew  Arnold. 


290  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

2.  My  heart  melted  within  me  to  see  my  fellow-creatures 
groaning  under  their  respective  burdens,  and  to  consider  that 
prodigious  bulk  of  human  calamities  which  lay  before  me. 

There  were,  however,  several  persons  who  gave  me  great  diver- 
sion upon  this  occasion.  —  Addison. 

3.  And  you  know  that  a  little  thought  and  a  little  kindness  are 
often  worth  more  than  a  great  deal  of  money. 

Now  this  charity  of  thought  is  not  merely  to  be  exercised 
towards   the  poor ;   it   is   to   be  exercised  towards   all   men.  — 

RlJSKIN. 

4.  Had  our  young  stranger  got  nothing  by  his  voyage  but  the 
sight  of  the  breathing  and  moving  Plato,  had  he  entered  no  lecture 
room  to  hear,  no  gymnasium  to  converse,  he  had  got  some  meas- 
ure of  education,  and  something  to  tell  of  to  his  grandchildren. 

But  Plato  is  not  the  only  sage,  nor  the  sight  of  him  the  only 
lesson  to  be  learned  in  this  wonderful  suburb.  —  Newman. 

5.  My  Lord  Mayor  had  a  low  gallery  built  on  purpose  in  his  hall, 
where  he  stood  a  little  removed  from  the  crowd  when  any  com- 
plaint came  to  be  heard,  that  he  might  appear  with  as  much  safety 
as  possible. 

Likeivise  the  proper  officers,  called  my  Lord  Mayor's  officers, 
constantly  attended  in  turns.  —  De  Foe. 

6.  Nor  does  the  process  of  induction  and  deduction  by  which  a 
lady,  finding  a  stain  of  a  peculiar  kind  upon  her  dress,  concludes 
that  somebody  has  upset  the  inkstand  thereon,  differ  in  any  way, 
in  kind,  from  that  by  which  Adams  and  Leverrier  discovered  a 
new  planet. 

The  man  of  science,  in  fact,  simply  uses,  with  scrupulous  exact- 
ness, the  methods  which  we  all,  habitually  and  at  every  moment, 
use  carelessly.  —  Huxley. 

Note.  —  Common  words  and  phrases  of  transition  are :  —  therefore, 
hence,  thus,  accordingly,  in  this  way,  it  follows  that,  nevertheless,  yet, 
and  yet,  still,  however,  on  the  contrary,  on  the  other  hand,  moreover, 
further,  furthermore,  again,  also,  likewise,  in  addition,  next,  similarly,  in 
like  manner,  in  the  same  way,  notwithstanding,  to  he  sure,  true,  it  is  true, 
I  admit,  we  may  grant,  in  spite  of,  to  begin  with,  finally,  to  sum  up,  in  short, 
on  the  whole,  after  all. 

Transition  is  necessary  in  every  kind  of  writing.  In 
stories  and  descriptions  the  transition  from  paragraph  to 


TRANSITION  AND  COHERENCE  291 

paragraph  almost  takes  care  of  itself,  for  we  naturally  indi- 
cate simple  relations  of  time,  place,  or  cause  and  effect,  as 
we  pass  from  one  step  to  another.  In  exposition  and  argu- 
ment, however,  we  begin  by  arranging  the  material  in 
such  a  way  that  like  topics  fall  together  in  groups,  with- 
out regard  to  their  original  time  or  place  (pp.  163-170). 
If  now,  we  leave  these  groups  without  unmistakable  signs 
of  the  logical  relations  between  them,  the  reader  will 
have  to  puzzle  out  the  connection  for  himself.  Since  the 
purpose  of  an  exposition  or  an  argument  is  to  make  these 
relations  evident,  care  for  transition  becomes  of  very  great 
importance. 

We  have  seen,  for  example,  how  distinctly  and  scrupu- 
lously Burke  marks  the  transition  from  point  to  point  of 
his  argument  on  "Conciliation  with  America"  (p.  177). 
Compare,  in  the  same  speech,  the  following  sentences, 
which  open  seven  successive  paragraphs :  — 

I  found  four  capital  examples  in  a  similar  case  before  me,  — 
those  of  Ireland,  Wales,  Chester,  and  Durham. 

Ireland  before  the  English  conquest,  though  never  governed  by 
a  despotic  power,  had  no  parliament. 

My  next  example  is  Wales. 

The  very  same  year  the  County  Palatine  of  Chester  received 
the  same  relief  from  its  oppressions  and  the  same  remedy  to  its 
disorders. 

Bere  is  my  third  example.  It  was  attended  with  the  success 
of  the  two  former.  Chester,  civilized  ;>s  well  as  Wales,  lias  demon- 
strated that  freedom,  and  not  servitude,  is  the  cure  for  anarchj  ; 
as  religion,  and  not  atheism,  is  the  true  remedy  for  superstition. 

Sir.  bhis  pattern  of  Chester  was  followed  in  the  reign  of  Charles 
the  Second  with  regard  to  the  County  Palatine  of  Durham,  which 
is  my  fourth  example. 

Now  if  the  doctrines  of  policy  contained  in  these  preambles 
and  the  force  of  these  examples  avail  anything,  whal  can  he  said 
against  applying  them  with  regard  to  America'/ 


292  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Similarly,  Carlyle  in  his  "  Essay  on  Burns  "  opens  differ- 
ent  paragraphs,1  which  mark  the  progress  of  his  discussion, 
as  follows  :  — ■ 

But  we  return  to  his  poetry. 

But  to  leave  the  mere  literary  character  of  Burns,  which  has 
already  detained  us  too  long. 

But  we  must  stop  short  in  these  considerations,  which  would 
lead  us  to  boundless  lengths. 

It  seems  to  us  another  circumstance  of  fatal  import  in  Burns's 
history,  that,  etc. 

We  are  here  arrived  at  the  crisis  of  Burns's  life. 

Still  less,  therefore,  are  we  disposed  to  join  with  another  class 
of  Burns's  admirers. 

In  long  expositions  or  arguments,  a  whole  paragraph  is 
sometimes  needed  to  introduce  or  sum  up  a  division  of  the 
subject,  or  to  mark  the  passage  from  one  division  to  another. 
Such  transitional  paragraphs  should  he  brief  and  business- 
like ;  they  may  even  consist  of  but  a  single  sentence.  Sev- 
eral examples  occur  in  Lubbock's  "  Fertilization  of  Plants  " 
(p.  151) ;  compare  also  the  following:  — 

1.  This,  then,  being  the  state  of  things  respecting  art  in  general, 
let  us  next  trace  the  career  of  landscape  through  these  centuries. 

RUSKIN. 

2.  Adhering,  Sir,  as  I  do,  to  this  policy,  as  well  as  for  the  reasons 
I  have  just  given,  I  think  this  new  project  of  hedging-in  popula- 
tion to  be  neither  prudent  nor  practicable.  — Burke. 

3.  If,  then,  the  removal  of  the  causes  of  this  siurit  of  Ameri- 
can liberty  be  for  the  greater  part,  or  rather  entirely,  imi^racticable ; 
if  the  ideas  of  criminal  process  be  inapplicable,  or  if  applicable, 
are  in  the  highest  degree  inexpedient ;  what  way  yet  remains  ? 
No  way  is  open  but  the  third  and  last,  —  to  comply  with  the 
American  spirit  as  necessary ;  or,  if  you  please,  to  submit  to  it  as 
a  necessary  evil.  —  Burke. 

1  The  paragraphs  are  not  continuous,  hut  are  taken,  for  illustration, 
from  different  parts  of  the  essay. 


TRANSITION   WITHIN   THE   PARAGRAPH       293 

4.  Having  in  the  foregoing  chapters  confined  myself  to  the  pro- 
ceedings of  the  commons  only,  by  the  method  of  impeachments 
against  particular  persons,  with  the  fatal  effects  they  had  upon 
the  state  of  Athens,  I  shall  now  treat  of  the  dissensions  at  Rome 
between  the  people  and  the  collective  body  of  the  patricians  or 
nobles.  It  is  a  large  subject,  but  I  shall  draw  it  into  as  narrow  a 
compass  as  I  can.  —  Swift. 

Note.  — Transition  cannot  be  taught  by  precept.  It  is  a  difficult  point 
of  literary  technique,  and,  like  all  matters  of  technique,  must  be  learned 
by  observation  of  good  models,  by  imitation,  and  by  unremitting  practice 
under  expert  guidance.  The  student  will  do  well  to  examine  several  essays 
of  some  length,  with  special  reference  to  the  beginning  and  the  end  of  each 
paragraph.  He  should  notice  when  the  closing  sentence  of  a  paragraph 
leads  up  to  the  opening  words  of  the  next,  and  when  the  beginning  of  a 
paragraph  refers  back  to  what  has  gone  before.  He  will  find  it  useful  to 
draw  up  a  list  of  transitional  words,  phrases,  and  sentences  which  seem 
likely  to  be  of  service  to  him,  and  to  make  a  definite  effort  to  work  some 
of  them  into  his  own  compositions.    Such  study  and  practice  will  soon  have 

an  influence  on  his  thought  and  hisstyle.    G 1  material  may  be  found  in 

Carlyle's  "  Burns,"  Ruskin's  "  Sesame  and  Lilies,"  ami  Burke's  "  Concili- 
ation with  America."  Of  course,  there  is  a  little  danger  in  this  process. 
But  the  student's  good  sense  should  prevent  him  from  slavishly  copying 
mere  tricks  of  expression  and  catch-phrases  without  regard  to  their  appro- 
priateness. He  should  remember,  too,  that  sometimes  the  connection  of 
thought  is  so  obvious  that  transitional  phrases  are  unnecessary. 

TRANSITION  WITHIN  THE  PARAGRAPH 

The  transition  from  sentence  to  sentence  within  the  para- 
graph should  be  as  smooth  as  that  from  paragraph  to 
paragraph.  In  general,  it  is  accomplished  hi  much  the 
same  way. 

Observe  how  easily  one  follows  the  narrative  in  "  The 
Siege  of  Arcot"  (pp.  395-399).  The  reason  is  that 
Macaulay  takes  pains  to  carry  his  reader  along  from  sen- 
tence to  sentence  by  always  making  clear  how  the  succes- 
sive facts  are  related  to  eaeh  oilier. 

In  the  first  place,  he  makes  free  use  of  conjunctions  and 
connective  phrases. 


294  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

The  fifth  paragraph  contains  three  examples,  —  however,  under 
such  circumstances,  and  but.  The  conjunction  however  in  the  third 
sentence  shows  that  the  facts  which  follow  are  opposed  in  thought 
to  what  has  preceded.  The  phrase  under  such  circumstances  shows, 
on  the  contrary,  that  the  facts  in  this  sentence  must  be  understood 
in  the  light  of  wdiat  comes  before.  The  but,  a  little  below,  gives 
notice  that  the  thought  is  changing  again. 

If  we  read  the  paragraph  aloud,  leaving  out  these  five 
words  only,  we  shall  see  how  much  they  assist  the  reader. 
By  their  use  Macaulay  made  it  possible  to  pass  swiftly, 
and  without  effort,  from  one  fact  to  another  in  the  succes- 
sive sentences. 

Another  way  to  smooth  the  reader's  passage  from  sen- 
tence to  sentence  is  to  use  pronouns  and  demonstratives  fre- 
quently. Thus,  in  the  third  paragraph  of  "  The  Siege  of 
Arcot,"  every  sentence  after  the  first  has  a  pronoun  or  a 
demonstrative  either  at  or  near  the  beginning.  In  order 
to  appreciate  the  effect  of  these  pronouns,  let  us  read  the 
passage  in  the  following  form :  — 

The  intelligence  of  these  events  was  soon  carried  to  Chunda 
Sahib,  who,  with  his  French  allies,  was  besieging  Trichinopoly. 
Four  thousand  men,  detached  from  his  camp,  immediately  started 
for  Arcot.  The  remains  of  the  force  lately  scattered  by  Clive 
joined  these  four  thousand.  The  force  was  strengthened  by  two 
thousand  men  from  Vellore,  and  Dupleix  despatched  a  still  more 
important  reinforcement  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  French  soldiers 
from  Pondicherry.  Rajah  Sahib,  son  of  Chunda  Sahib,  com- 
manded the  whole  army,  amounting  to  about  ten  thousand  men. 

In  this  form  the  passage  is  much  harder  to  read  and 
the  sense  is  not  so  readily  grasped.  We  miss  the  constant 
succession  of  he  and  they  and  this,  which  show  us,  as  we 
come  to  each  fresh  sentence,  that  the  new  thought  con- 
cerns the  person  or  persons  or  things  mentioned  in  the  sen- 
tence preceding.    Such  words,  then,  are  like  the  transitional 


TRANSITION  WITHIN   THE   PARAGRAPH       295 

conjunctions  which  we  have  just  studied ;  for  they  also 
serve  as  guideposts  to  direct  our  thought  as  it  tries  to 
follow  the  author's  meaning. 

In  the  following  paragraph  from  Hawthorne's  "Golden 
Touch,"  each  sentence  is  connected  with  what  has  gone 
before  in  one  or  another  of  the  ways  which  we  have  been 
studying :  — 

Whether  Midas  slept  as  usual  that  night,  the  story  does  not 
say.  Asleep  or  awake,  however,  his  mind  was  probably  in  the  state 
of  a  child's,  to  whom  a  beautiful  new  plaything  has  been  promised 
in  the  morning.  At  any  rate,  day  had  hardly  peeped  over  the  hills, 
when  King  Midas  was  broad  awake,  and,  stretching  his  arms  out 
of  bed,  began  to  touch  the  objects  that  were  within  reach.  He 
was  anxious  to  prove  whether  the  Golden  Touch  had  really  come, 
according  to  the  stranger's  promise.  So  he  laid  his  finger  on  a 
chair  by  the  bedside,  and  on  various  other  things,  but  was  griev- 
ously disappointed  to  perceive  that  they  remained  of  exactly  the 
same  substance  as  before.  Indeed,  he  felt  very  much  afraid  that 
he  had  only  dreamed  about  the  lustrous  stranger,  or  else  that  the 
latter  had  been  making  game  of  him.  A  ml  what  a  miserable  affair 
would  it  be,  if,  after  all  his  hopes,  Midas  must  content  himself 
with  what  little  gold  he  could  scrape  together  by  ordinary  means, 
instead  of  creating  it  by  a  touch  ! 

The  words  in  italics  bind  the  sentences  together  so  closely 
that  we  feel  no  sudden  breaks  as  we  read,  and  so  grasp 
the  relations  between  the  successive  facts  without  con- 
scious el  fort. 

('arc  for  easy  transition  from  sentence  to  sentence  is 
especially  important  in  expositions  and  arguments:  it 
welds  the  substance  of  each  paragraph  together  so  closely 
that  the  reader  can  grasp  if  all  as  a  single  thought.  If 
our  paragraphs  are  thus  firmly  coherent,  they  enable  us  to 
handle  large  and  comprehensive  ideas  without  making 
undue  demands  on  the  reader's  attention,  and  therefore  to 
(\r-,{\  with  complicated  subjects  in  a,  satisfactory  way.    If 


296  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

on  the  other  hand,  we  jerk  the  reader's  mind  from  one 
sentence  to  another,  without  indicating  the  connection, 
the  essay  will  leave  the  impression  of  a  crude  mass  of  unre- 
lated details.  Even  if  each  paragraph  has  unity,  the  reader 
will  hardly  realize  the  fact  unless  there  are  easy  transitions 
as  well.  Moreover,  though  a  style  marked  by  short,  jerky, 
and  disconnected  sentences  may  for  a  time  seem  brisk  and 
clever,  it  soon  palls  and  in  the  long  run  gives  an  effect  of 
incoherence  of  thought  and  a  rather  cheap  smartness. 

EMPHASIS  IN  THE  PARAGRAPH 

In  studying  narration  we  have  found  that  a  story  is 
often  constructed  on  the  principle  of  the  climax  (p.  37). 
This  same  principle  is  often  followed  hi  constructing  a 
paragraph  :  for  example,  — 

The  mind  is  ever  ingenious  in  making  its  own  distress.  The 
wandering  beggar,  who  has  none  to  protect,  or  feed,  or  shelter 
him,  fancies  complete  happiness  in  labor  and  a  full  meal.  Take 
him  from  rags  and  want ;  feed,  clothe,  and  employ  him  :  his  wishes 
now  rise  one  step  above  his  station ;  he  could  be  happy  were  he 
possessed  of  raiment,  food,  and  ease.  Suppose  his  wishes  gratified 
even  in  these  ;  his  prospects  widen  as  he  ascends.  He  finds  him- 
self in  affluence  and  tranquillity,  indeed,  but  indolence  soon  breeds 
anxiety,  and  he  desires  not  only  to  be  freed  f  rom  pain,  but  to  be 
possessed  of  pleasure.  Pleasure  is  granted  him,  but  this  opens  his 
soul  to  ambition;  and  ambition  will  be  sure  to  taint  his  future 
happiness,  either  with  jealousy,  disappointment,  or  fatigue.  — 
Goldsmith. 

For  other  examples  of  paragraphs  which  observe  the 
principle  of  the  climax,  see  the  extracts  from  Irving 
(p.  109),  Macaulay  (pp.  117,  305),  Huxley  (p.  173),  Gold- 
smith (p.  298),  Burke  (pp.  300,  337),  Lubbock  (p.  305), 
and  Thackeray  (p.  307). 


FORMS   OF  THE   PARAGRAPE  297 

"When  it  is  impossible  or  inadvisable  to  construct  the 
whole  paragraph  on  the  principle  of  the  climax,  one  may 
often  produce  a  similar  effect  by  closing  with  an  emphatic 
sentence  (see  pp.  284-285).  At  all  events,  since  the  end  of 
a  paragraph  is  a  natural  place  for  emphasis,  we  should  take 
care  not  to  conclude  with  a  feeble  or  colorless  sentence. 

In  general,  if  a  paragraph  is  clear  and  coherent  and 
sets  forth  the  thought  in  a  reasonable  and  logical  order, 
emphasis  will  almost  take  care  of  itself.  It  is  a  good 
practice,  however,  to  read  one's  compositions  aloud  with 
special  attention  to  the  natural  stress  of  the  voice.  This 
test  will  often  enable  a  writer  to  detect  errors  in  arrange- 
ment that  have  escaped  his  eye. 

FORMS  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH 

Paragraphs  are  developed  in  many  ways,  since  they 
follow  in  their  structure  the  infinite  varieties  of  thought. 
An  exhaustive  classification,  therefore,  is  impossible,  even 
if  it  were  desirable.  Still,  there  are  certain  methods  which 
are  so  often  observed  in  constructing'  paragraphs  that  they 
are  worth  specifying  and  illustrating. 

The  examples  which  follow  are  intended  for  study  and 
reference.  The  student  should  guard  against  tire  error  of 
supposing  that  paragraphs  are  divisible  into  fixed  types  to 
which  it  is  his  duty  to  conform.  Clearness,  unity,  coherence, 
and  emphasis  are  the  only  valid  principles  in  the  structure 
of  paragraphs.  Their  precise  form  will  depend,  in  each 
case,  on  the  nature  of  the  subject  and  the  order  of  thought. 

In  narration,  a  paragraph  is  often  constructed  hy  adding 
one  incident  to  another  in  order  of  time.    Thus:  — 

Alxnif  four  hours  after  we  began  our  journey,  I  was  awaked  by 
a  very  singular  accidenl  ;  for,  the  carriage  being  Btopped  awhile, 


298  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

to  adjust  something  that  was  out  of  order,  two  or  three  of  the 
young  natives  had  the  curiosity  to  see  how  I  looked  when  I  was 
asleep.  They  climbed  up  into  the  engine,  and,  advancing  very 
softly  to  my  face,  one  of  them,  an  officer  in  the  guards,  put  the 
sharp  end  of  his  half-pike  a  good  way  up  into  my  left  nostril, 
which  tickled  my  nose  like  a  straw,  and  made  me  sneeze  violently  ; 
whereupon  they  stole  off  unperceived,  and  it  was  three  weeks  before 
I  knew  the  cause  of  my  wakening  so  suddenly.  We  made  a  long 
march  the  remaining  part  of  the  day,  and  rested  at  night  with 
five  hundred  guards  on  each  side  of  me,  half  with  torches,  and  half 
with  bows  and  arrows,  ready  to  shoot  me  if  I  should  offer  to  stir. 
The  next  morning  at  sunrise  we  continued  our  march,  and  arrived 
within  two  hundred  yards  of  the  city  gates  about  noon.  —  Swift. 

Attracted  by  the  serenity  of  the  evening,  my  friend  and  I  lately 
went  to  gaze  upon  the  company  in  one  of  the  public  walks  near 
the  city.  Here  we  sauntered  together  for  some  time,  either  prais- 
ing the  beauty  of  such  as  were  handsome,  or  the  dresses  of  such  as 
had  nothing  else  to  recommend  them.  We  had  gone  thus  deliber- 
ately forward  for  some  time,  when,  stopping  on  a  sudden,  my  friend 
caught  me  by  the  elbow  and  led  me  out  of  the  public  walk.  I  could 
perceive  by  the  quickness  of  his  pace,  and  by  his  frequently  look- 
ing behind,  that  he  was  attempting  to  avoid  somebody  who  fol- 
lowed. We  now  turned  to  the  right,  then  to  the  left  ;  as  we  went 
forward  he  still  went  faster,  but  in  vain  ;  the  person  whom  he 
attempted  to  escape,  hunted  us  through  every  doubling,  and  gained 
upon  us  each  moment ;  so  that  at  last  we  fairly  stood  still,  resolving 
to  face  what  we  could  not  avoid.  —  Goldsmith. 

Other  examples  may  be  found  on  pages  12-18,  22-28, 
33,  38,  174 

In  description,  a  paragraph  is  often  formed  by  accumu- 
lating the  specific  details  by  means  of  which  the  whole  im- 
pression is  to  be  produced. 

Thus  the  second  paragraph  of  Hawthorne's  description  of 
Tanglewood  Porch  (p.  393)  gives  the  details  of  the  view;  the 
fourth  and  fifth  give  many  details  about  Eustace  Bright.  The  last 
paragraph  of  Dickens's  description  of  "  The  Old  Boat "  (p.  03) 
names  a  number  of  the  things  to  be  seen  in  the  interior. 


FORMS  OF  TIIK  PARAGRAPH  299 

For  other  examples,  see  pages  45,  54,  89-95,  96,  99- 
101, 106, 110, 112-114, 117-119, 123, 125,  127, 130, 131. 

In  such  paragraphs  the  arrangement  is  often  rather 
haphazard,  in  unconscious  imitation  of  the  accidental 
order  in  which  the  objects  happen  to  catch  the  eye. 
Nevertheless,  the  paragraph  must  have  unity  (p.  278), 
and  the  description  must  be  "  composed  "  (p.  126).  Some- 
times, indeed,  when  the  central  idea  of  a  description 
is  disorder,  the  paragraph  throws  the  details  together 
"anyhow."  So  in  the  following  passage  from  one  of 
Byron's  letters,  which  gives,  by  means  of  one  long,  ram- 
bling sentence,  crowded  with  heterogeneous  details,1  a 
first-rate  impression  of  the  hurry  and  hubbub  of  the 
scene  he  wishes  to  describe :  — 

We  have  had  a  deluge  here,  which  has  carried  away  half  the 
country  between  this  and  Genoa  (about  two  miles  or  less  distant ), 
but,  being  on  a  hill,  we  were  only  nearly  knocked  down  by  the 
lightning  and  battered  by  columns  of  rain,  and  our  lower  floor 
afloat,  with  the  comfortable  view  of  the  whole  landscape  under 
water,  and  people  screaming  out  of  their  garret  windows;  two 
bridges  swept  down,  and  our  next-door  neighbors — a  cobbler,  a 
wi  j,  maker,  and  a  gingerbread  baker  —  delivering  up  their  whole 
stock  to  the  elements,  which  marched  away  with  a  quantity  of 
-hoes,  several  perukes,  and  gingerbread  in  all  branches.  The 
whole  came  on  so  suddenly  that  there  was  no  time  to  prepare. 

In  most  descriptions,  however,  there  is,  as  we  have  seen, 
some  order  in  the  details. 

Thus,  both  paragraphs  of  George  Eliot's  description  of  the  Valley 

of  the  Floss  (p.  99)  consist  of  details;  but  in  both  there  is  a 
definite  principle  of  arrangement  in  accordance  wit  b.  I  be  •■  moi  mg 
point  of  view  "  (see  p.  L09).  So  also  in  Stevenson's  description  of 
the  coral  island  (p.  130).  In  Hawthorne's  description  of  the  pigs 
(p.  1:51),  tin;  details  follow  the  natural  order  of  observation. 

1  Note  that  tie-  paragraph  is  1<  1 1  it  up  ;il  the  end  by  means  .if  :i  short 
and  compart  sentence  fef.  p.  284). 


300  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

In  exposition  and  argument,  the  paragraphs  are,  for 
obvious  reasons,  more  formal  and  systematic  than  in 
narration  or  description.  Several  of  the  commoner  types 
will  now  be  indicated. 

A  common  use  of  a  paragraph  in  exposition  and  argu- 
ment is  for  the  definition  of  some  term  or  terms  which  need 
to  be  precisely  understood  in  the  discussion  that  is  to 
follow.    Thus,  — 

Justice  may  be  defined  to  be  that  virtue  which  impels  us  to  give 
to  every  person  what  is  his  due.  In  this  extended  sense  of  the 
word,  it  comprehends  the  practice  of  every  virtue  which  reason 
prescribes  or  society  should  expect.  Our  duty  to  our  Maker,  to 
each  other,  and  to  ourselves,  is  fully  answered,  if  we  give  them 
what  we  owe  them.  Thus  justice,  properly  speaking,  is  the  only 
virtue,  and  all  the  rest  have  their  origin  in  it.  —  Goldsmith. 

In  the  following  paragraph  Burke  defines  his  project 
for  "  Conciliation  with  America."  The  paragraph  might 
be  summed  up  in  a  sentence :  "  My  plan  is  to  pacify  the 
Americans  by  yielding  the  point  in  dispute  "  :  — 

The  proposition  is  peace.  Not  peace  through  the  medium  of 
war ;  not  peace  to  be  hunted  through  the  labyrinth  of  intricate  and 
endless  negotiations  ;  not  peace  to  arise  out  of  universal  discord 
fomented  from  principle  in  all  parts  of  the  empire ;  not  peace  to 
depend  on  the  juridical  determination  of  perplexing  questions,  or 
the  precise  marking  the  shadowy  boundaries  of  a  complex  govern- 
ment. It  is  simple  peace,  sought  in  its  natural  course  and  in  its 
ordinary  haunts.  It  is  peace  sought  in  the  spirit  of  peace,  and 
laid  in  principles  purely  pacific.  I  propose,  by  removing  the  ground 
of  the  difference,  and  by  restoring  the  former  unsuspecting  con  fid*  nee 
of  the  colonies  in  the  mother  country,  to  give  permanent  satisfaction 
to  your  people;  and  (far  from  a  scheme  of  ruling  by  discord) 
to  reconcile  them  to  each  other  in  the  same  act  and  by  the 
bond  of  the  very  same  interest  which  reconciles  them  to  British 
government.  ■ —  Burke. 


FORMS  OF   THE  PARAGRAPH  301 

For  other  examples  of  paragraphs  containing  definitions, 
see  pages  161,  173. 

A  paragraph  may  begin  with  a  statement,  or  propo- 
sition, and  then  go  on  to  give  one  or  more  examples  whi<  li 
illustrate  and  enforce  it.    Thus,  — 

Money  is  so  hardly  earned  by  the  Parisian  workman  and  work- 
woman, and  existence  is  such  a  struggle,  that  we  need  not  wonder 
at  the  deadly  tenacity  with  which  earnings  are  clutched  at.  When, 
some  years  ago,  the  Opera  Comique  blazed,  amid  a  scene  awful  as 
that  of  a  battlefield,  the  women  attendants  thought  of  their  tips, 
the  half  franc  due  here  and  therefor  a  footstool.  Unmindful  of 
their  own  peril  and  that  of  others,  they  rushed  to  and  fro,  besieg- 
ing half-suffocated,  half-demented  creatures  for  their  money  !  A 
similar  scene  happened  during  the  terrible  catastrophe  on  the  Paris 
underground  railway  last  year.  Although  the  delay  of  a  fewseconds 
might  mean  life  or  death,  many  workmen  refused  to  move  from 
the  crowded  station,  clamoring  for  the  return  of  the  forfeited  two- 
penny ticket.  —  Miss  Betham-Edwards.1 

For  other  paragraphs  containing  examples,  see  pages 
149-150,  180,  181,  239,  280,  281. 

A  paragraph  may  begin  with  an  apt  illustration  and 
then  proceed  to  apply  it  to  the  case  in  hand.    Thus, — 

It  is  said  that  the  hasty  and  rapacious  Kneller  used  to  semi 
away  the  ladies  who  sat  to  him  [for  their  portraits]  after  sketching 
their  faces,  and  to  paint  the  figure  and  hands  from  his  housemaid. 
It  was  much  in  the  same  way  thai  Walpole  portrayed  the  minds 
of  others.  Hecopied  from  the  life  only  those  glaring  and  obvious 
peculiarities  which  could  not  escape  the  most  superficial  observa- 
tion. The  rest  of  thecanvashe  filled  up  in  a  careless,  dashing  way, 
with  knave  and  fool,  mixed  in  such  proportions  as  pleased  heaven. 
What  a  difference  between  these  daubs  and  the  masterly  portraits 
of  Clarendon  !  —  Macaulay. 

i  From  "  Home  Life  in  France." 


302  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

A  paragraph  may  consist  of  a  proposition  followed  by  a 
brief  proof.    Thus, — 

1.  Our  sight  is  the  most  perfect  and  most  delightful  of  all  our 
senses.  It  fills  the  mind  with  the  largest  ideas,  converses  with  its 
objects  at  the  greatest  distance,  and  continues  the  longest  in  action 
without  being  tired  or  satiated  with  its  proper  enjoyments.  The 
sense  of  feeling  can  indeed  give  us  a  notion  of  extension,  shape, 
and  all  other  ideas  that  enter  at  the  eye,  except  colors  ;  but  at  the 
same  time  it  is  very  much  straitened  and  confined  in  its  operations, 
to  the  number,  bulk,  and  distance  of  its  particular  objects.  Our 
sight  seems  designed  to  supply  all  these  defects,  and  may  be  con- 
sidered as  a  more  delicate  and  diffusive  kind  of  touch,  that  spreads 
itself  over  an  infinite  multitude  of  bodies,  comprehends  the  largest 
figures,  and  brings  into  our  reach  some  of  the  most  remote  parts 
of  the  universe.  —  Addison. 

2.  Most  men  have,  and  almost  every  man  should  have,  a  hobby. 
It  is  exercise  in  a  mild  way,  and  does  not  take  him  away  from 
home.  It  diverts  him,  and,  by  having  a  double  line  of  rails,  he 
can  manage  to  keep  the  permanent  way  in  good  condition.  A  man 
who  has  only  one  object  in  life,  only  one  line  of  rails,  —  who  exer- 
cises only  one  set  of  faculties,  and  these  only  in  one  way,  —  will 
wear  himself  out  much  sooner  than  a  man  who  shunts  himself 
every  now  and  then,  and  who  has  trains  coming  as  well  as  going, 
—  who  takes  in  as  well  as  gives  out.  —  Dr.  John  Brown. 

3.  I  have  often  told  you  that  I  do  not  think  there  is  any 
jealousy,  properly  so  called,  in  the  character  of  Othello.  There  is 
no  predisposition  to  suspicion,  which  I  take  to  be  an  essential 
term  in  the  definition  of  the  word.  Desdemona  very  truly  told 
Emilia  that  he  was  not  jealous,  that  is,  of  a  jealous  habit,  and  he 
says  so  as  truly  of  himself.  Iago's  suggestions,  you  see,  are  quite 
new  to  him  ;  they  do  not  correspond  with  anything  of  a  like  nature 
previously  in  his  mind.  If  Desdemona  had,  in  fact,  been  guilty,  no 
one  would  have  thought  of  calling  Othello's  conduct  that  of  a 
jealous  man.  He  could  not  act  otherwise  than  he  did  with  the 
lights  he  had ;  whereas  jealousy  can  never  be  strictly  right.  See 
how  utterly  unlike  Othello  is  to  Leontes,  in  "The  AVinter's  Tale," 
or  even  to  Leonatus,  in  "  Cymbeline  "  !  The  jealousy  of  the  first  pro- 
ceeds from  an  evident  trifle,  and  something  like  hatred  is  mingled 


FORMS  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH  303 

with  it  ;  and  the  conduct  of  Leonatus  in  accepting-  the  wager,  and 
exposing  his  wife  to  the  trial,  denotes  a  jealous  temper  already 
formed. —  Coleridge. 

For  a  paragraph  of  proof  and  refutation,  see  page  215 ;  for 
one  of  pure  refutation,  see  page  239. 

A  paragraph,  may  begin  by  stating  the  cause  of  some- 
thing and  then  proceed  to  give  the  effect.  For  an  example 
see  the  extract  from  Mr.  John  Burroughs  on  page  162. 

A  paragraph  sometimes  begins  with  the  statement  of  a 
fact  and  then  gives  the  causes  or  reasons  which  account 
for  it.  Thus  Fuller,  speaking  of  English  schoolmasters  in 
the  seventeenth  century,  says  :  — 

There  is  scarce  any  profession  in  the  commonwealth  more  neces- 
sary, which  is  so  slightly  performed.  The  reasons  whereof  I  con- 
ceive to  be  these  :  — First,  young  scholars  make  this  calling  their 
refuge,  yea,  perchance,  before  they  have  taken  any  degree  in  the 
university,  commence  schoolmasters  in  the  country,  as  if  nothing 
else  were  required  to  set  up  this  profession  but  only  a  rod  and  a 
ferula.  Secondly,  others,  who  are  able,  use  it  only  as  a  passage 
to  better  preferment,  to  patch  the  rents  in  their  present  fortune 
till  they  can  provide  a  new  one  and  betake  themselves  to  some 
more  gainful  calling.  Thirdly,  they  are  disheartened  from  doing 
their  hest  with  the  miserable  reward  which  in  some  places  they 
receive,  being  masters  to  the  children  and  slaves  to  their  parents. 
Fourthly,  being  grown  rich,  they  grow  negligent,  and  scorn  to 
touch  the  school  but  by  the  proxy  of  an  usher.1 

A  paragraph  may  consist  of  a  comparison  between  things 
that  are  similar  or  a  contrast  between  things  that  are  unlike. 
Thus,— 

1.  The  external  form  of  the  foot  differs  w  idely  from  that  of  the 
hand;  and  yet,  when  closely  compared,  the  two  present  some 
singular  resemblances.  Thus,the  ankle  corresponds  in  a  manner 
with  the  wrist  ;  the  sole  with  the  palm;  the  toes  with  the  fingers; 
the  great  toe  with  the  thumb.    Bu1  the  toes,  or  digits  of  the  foot, 

i  From  "The  Bolj  State." 


304  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

are  far  shorter  in  proportion  than  the  digits  of  the  hand,  and  are 
less  movable,  the  want  of  mobility  being  most  striking  in  the 
great  toe  —  which,  again,  is  very  much  larger  in  proportion  to  the 
other  toes  than  the  thumb  to  the  fingers.  In  considering  this 
point,  however,  it  must  not  be  forgotten  that  the  civilized  great 
toe,  confined  and  cramped  from  childhood  upwards,  is  seen  to  a 
great  disadvantage,  and  that  in  uncivilized  and  barefooted  people 
it  retains  a  great  amount  of  mobility,  and  even  some  sort  of  oppos- 
ability.  The  Chinese  boatmen  are  said  to  be  able  to  pull  an  oar, 
the  artisans  of  Bengal  to  weave,  and  the  Carajas  to  steal  fishhooks, 
by  its  help;  though,  after  all,  it  must  be  recollected  that  the 
structure  of  its  joints  and  the  arrangement  of  its  bones,  necessarily 
render  its  prehensile  action  far  less  perfect  than  that  of  the 
thumb.  —  Huxley. 

2.  The  coasting  trade  and  the  distant  trade  have  each  their 
advantages  in  training  mariners.  The  former  is  more  exposed  to 
danger,  requiring  the  most  constant  vigilance,  which  the  neighbor- 
hood of  a  coast  always  calls  for,  and  gives  more  skill  in  the  manage- 
ment of  anchors,  than  the  more  regular  and  less  anxious  navigation 
of  the  Atlantic  or  the  Indian  Ocean  —  more  even  than  the  shorter 
voyages  of  the  Baltic  and  the  North  Sea.  But  the  longer  voyage 
has  the  advantage  of  keeping  the  seaman  longer  on  board  ;  the 
crew  of  a  West  Indiaman  or  an  East  Indiaman  are  more  months 
in  the  year  on  shipboard  than  the  crew  of  a  Newcastle  collier  or 
even  a  Hamburg  trader.  There  is  also  more  regularity  and  disci- 
pline in  a  ship  which  has  twenty  or  thirty  men  than  in  one 
manned  by  three  or  four. — Brougham. 

3.  I  have  two  French  prints  hanging  in  my  study,  both  on  Iliad 
subjects;  and  I  have  an  English  one  in  the  parlor,  on  a  subject 
from  the  same  poem.  In  one  of  the  former,  Agamemnon  addresses 
Achilles  exactly  in  the  attitude  of  a  dancing  master  turning  miss 
in  a  minuet :  in  the  latter  the  figures  are  plain,  and  the  attitudes 
plain  also.  This  is,  in  some  considerable  measure  I  believe,  the 
difference  between  my  translation  and  Pope's  ;  and  will  serve  as 
an  exemplification  of  what  I  am  going  to  lay  before  you  and  the 
public.  —  Cowper. 

4.  I  have  so  little  to  do  that  I  am  surprised  how  I  can  find  time 
to  write  to  you  so  often.  Do  not  stare  at  the  seeming  paradox ; 
for  it  is  an  undoubted  truth  that  the  less  one  has  to  do,  the  less 


FORMS  OF  THE  PARAGRAPH  305 

time  one  finds  to  do  it  in.  One  yawns,  one  procrastinates  ;  one 
can  do  it  when  one  will,  and  therefore  one  seldom  does  it  at  all : 
whereas  those  who  have  a  great  deal  of  business  must  (to  use  a 
vulgar  expression)  buckle  to  it  ;  and  then  they  always  find  time 
enough  to  do  it  in.  —  Chesterfield. 

For  other  examples  of  comparison  or  contrast,  see  pages 
112,  121-123,  154-156,  175,  181,  183-185. 

A  paragraph  may  begin  with  a  negative  statement  and 
pass  over  to  affirmation.     Thus, — 

The  spirits  of  Milton  are  unlike  those  of  almost  all  other 
writers.  His  fiends,  in  particular,  are  wonderful  creations.  They 
are  not  metaphysical  abstractions.  They  are  not  wicked  men. 
They  are  not  ugly  beasts.  They  have  no  horns,  no  tails,  none  of 
the  fee-faw-fum  of  Tasso  and  Klopstock.  They  have  just  enough 
in  common  with  human  nature  to  be  intelligible  to  human  beings. 
Their  characters  are,  like  their  forms,  marked  by  a  certain  dim 
resemblance  to  those  of  men,  but  exaggerated  to  gigantic  dimen- 
sions, and  veiled  in  mysterious  gloom.  —  Macaulay. 

A  paragraph  may  divide  the  subject,  stating  either  the 
heads  under  which  it  is  to  be  taken  up  or  different  aspects 
in  which  it  is  worthy  of  attention.    Thus,  — 

1.  In  explaining  to  you  the  proceedings  of  Parliament  which 
have  been  complained  of,  I  will  state  to  you,  first,  the  thing  that 
was  done  ;  next,  the  persons  who  did  it  ;  and  lastly,  the  grounds 
and  reasons  upon  which  the  legislature  proceeded  in  this  deliberate 
act  of  public  justice  and  public  prudence.  —  Burke.1 

2.  The  study  of  the  lower  races  of  men,  apart  from  the  direcl 
importance  which  it  possesses  in  an  empire  like  ours,  is  of  great 
interest  from  three  points  of  view.  In  the  first  place,  the  condition 
and  habits  of  existing  savages  resemble  in  many  ways,  though  riol 
in  all,  those  of  our  own  ancestors  in  a  period  now  long  gone  by  : 
in  the  second,  they  illustrate  much  of  what  is  passing  among  our- 
selves —  many  customs  which  have  evidently  no  relation  topresenl 
circumstances,  and  some  ideas  which  are  rooted  in  our  minds  as 

1  From  the  "  Sjicccli  at   I'.ristol." 


I 

306  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

fossils  are  embedded  in  the  soil  ;  while,  thirdly,  we  can  even,  l>y 
means  of  them,  penetrate  some  of  the  mist  which  separates  the 
present  from  the  future.  —  Lubbock.1 

3.  Of  modern  Scottish  poetry  in  its  relation  to  the  world  of  out- 
ward nature,  there  are  two  obvious  features.  First,  there  is  love 
for  free,  wild  nature,  and  the  objects  that  fill  up  the  landscape,  — 
as  Mower  and  tree,  stream,  haugh,  and  glen,  —  and  there  is  a 
tendency  to  indulge  in  full  and  minute  description,  more  or  less 
faithful.  Burns,  Leyden,  Scott,  and  Hogg  afford  ample  illustra- 
tions of  this  general  characteristic.  Secondly,  there  is  an  imagi- 
native sympathy  for  the  grand  and  powerful  in  nature,  — as 
mountain  height  and  cataract,  the  foaming  flood,  the  force  of 
ocean,  and  the  dark  wind-swept  wood  as  it  sways  in  the  storm. 
Of  the  feeling  for  this  aspect  of  nature  we  have  notable  examples 
in  the  delineations  of  Leyden,  Scott,  and  John  Wilson.  —  John 
Veitch.2 

A  concluding  paragraph  may  sum  up  the  contents  or 
main  points  of  a  chapter  or  essay.  For  specimens,  see 
pages  150,  156,  175,  176. 

A  paragraph,  as  we  have  seen,  may  consist  in  a  kind  of 
development  or  expansion  of  the  thought  contained  in  the 
opening  sentence,  —  the  topic  sentence,  as  it  is  often  called. 
Examples  may  be  found  on  pages  161,  162,  163,  239, 
296,  300.  Compare  also  the  following  passage  from 
Macaulay's  "  Essay  on  Milton  "  :  — - 

He  who,  in  an  enlightened  and  literary  society,  aspires  to  be  a 
great  poet,  must  first  become  a  little  child.  He  must  take  to  pieces 
the  whole  web  of  his  mind.  He  must  unlearn  much  of  that  knowl- 
edge which  has  perhaps  constituted  hitherto  his  chief  title  to 
superiority.  His  very  talents  will  be  a  hindrance  to  him.  His 
difficulties  will  be  proportioned  to  his  proficiency  in  the  pursuits 
which  are  fashionable  among  his  contemporaries ;  and  that  pro- 
ficiency will  in  general  be  proportioned  to  the  vigor  and  activity 
of  his  mind.    And  it  is  well  if,  after  all  his  sacrifices  and  exertions, 

i  From  "  The  Origin  of  Civilization." 

2  From  "  The  Feeling  for  Nature  in  Scottish  Poetry." 


FORMS  OF  THE   PARAGRAPH  307 

his  works  do  not  resemble  a  lisping  man,  or  a  modern  ruin.  We 
have  seen,  in  our  own  time,  great  talents,  intense  labor,  and  long 
meditation,  employed  in  this  struggle  against  the  spirit  of  the  age, 
and  employed,  Ave  will  not  say,  absolutely  in  vain,  but  with  dubious 
success  and  feeble  applause. 

Sometimes  a  paragraph  is  made  by  repeating,  with  some 
modification,  the  thought  expressed  in  the  topic  sentence. 
Thus,  — 

In  these  astonishing  lines,  [the  conclusion  of  "  The  Dunciad,"] 
Pope  reaches,  I  think,  to  the  very  greatest  height  which  his  sublime 
art  has  attained,  and  shows  himself  the  ecptal  of  all  poets  of  all 
times.  It  is  the  brightest  ardor,  the  loftiest  assertion  of  truth,  the 
most  generous  wisdom,  illustrated  by  the  noblest  poetic  figure,  and 
spoken  in  words  the  aptest,  grandest,  and  most  harmonious.  It  is 
heroic  courage  speaking;  a  splendid  declaration  of  righteous  wrath 
and  war.  It  is  the  gage  flung  down,  and  the  silver  trumpet  ringing 
defiance  to  falsehood  and  tyranny,  deceit,  dulness.  superstition.  It 
is  Truth,  the  champion,  shining  and  intrepid,  and  fronting  the 
great  world-tyrant  with  armies  of  slaves  at  his  back.  It  is  a  won- 
derful and  victorious  single  combat,  in  that  great  battle  which  has 
always  been  waging  since  society  began.  —  Thackeray.1 

For  repetition  hi  general,  with  further  examples,  see 
pages  386-388. 

In  concluding  our  study  of  paragraphs,  we  must  empha- 
size once  more  their  variety.  The  choice  among  different 
forms  and  different  lengths  is  a  matter  of  expediency. 
Every  writer,  therefore,  is  obliged  to  rely  upon  his  own 
judgment;  he  cannot  depend  upon  rules  and  types.  It 
is  a  common  fault  of  unpractised  writers  to  make  their 
paragraphs  too  short.  Sometimes,  indeed,  their  error  goes 
so  far  that  each  sentence  stands  in  a  paragraph  by  itself. 
On  the  other  band,  very  long  paragraphs  are  equally  ques- 
tionable.   The  only  safe  guides  ate  care  and  common  sense. 

i  Prom  "  The  English  Bumorista  <>f  the  Eighteenth  Century." 


808  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

EXEECISES  IN  PARAGRAPHS1 

1.  Write  a  paragraph  beginning  with  the  topic  sentence, 
"  You  cannot  be  happy  unless  you  have  something  to  do  "  ;  with 
the  topic  sentence,  "  Third  thoughts  are  often  the  same  as  first 
thoughts."  Compare  your  paragraphs  with  the  first  and  second 
examples  on  pages  280-281.    Be  careful  to  observe  unity. 

2.  Make  topic  sentences  for  the  five  extracts  on  pages  161- 
163.  Compare  your  topic  sentence  with  the  opening  sentence  of 
the  selection  in  each  case. 

3.  Make  a  topic  sentence  for  each  paragraph  of  your  latest 
composition,  and  use  these  sentences  as  a  test  of  unity.  If  any 
paragraph  violates  the  principle  of  unity,  revise  it. 

4.  Make  a  topic  sentence  for  a  paragraph  on  each  of  the 
following  subjects  :  — ■  a  wigwam  ;  a  flint  arrow-head  ;  how  to  fish 
for  brook  trout ;  our  last  debate  ;  a  tennis  court ;  Cedric  the 
Saxon  (in  "  Ivanhoe  "  )  ;  witchcraft;  a  sawmill. 

5.  Write  a  paragraph  on  each  of  the  subjects  mentioned  in 
Exercise  4.  Exchange  paragraphs  with  a  classmate  and  criticise 
his  composition  with  respect  to  unity.  Rewrite  your  own  para- 
graph, if  necessary,  in  the  light  of  your  classmate's  criticism. 

6.  Turn  back  to  the  outlines  which  you  prepared  in  study- 
ing the  exercises  on  page  203.  Use  one  of  them  as  the  basis 
of  a  composition,  constructing  your  paragraphs  in  accordance 
with  the  outline.  Prepare  a  topic  sentence  for  each  paragraph. 
Note  that  these  sentences  give  you  a  summary  of  the  compo- 
sition (p.  168). 

7.  Write  two  paragraphs,  the  first  asking  a  question,  and  the 
second  replying  to  the  question. 

8.  Write  a  paragraph  in  which  the  main  thought  is  expressed 
in  the  first  sentence,  and  explained  by  the  sentences  which  follow. 

9.  Write  a  paragraph  in  which  the  topic  sentence  is  used  at 
the  end  of  the  paragraph  (see  page  285). 

10.  Study  the  examples  on  pages  286-287  ;  then  find  examples 
of  paragraphs  beginning  with  a  word  or  group  of  words  referring 
to  something  that  precedes.  See  if  you  have  used  this  method  of 
transition  in  your  own  compositions. 

1  For  further  practice,  see  pp.  431-432.  Many  of  the  exercises  on 
pp.  78-88,  134-144,  and  200-210,  may  also  be  utilized  for  practice  in  para- 
graphing. 


EXERCISES  IN  PARAGRAPHS  309 

11.  Extend  the  study  indicated  in  the  preceding  exercise  to  the 
method  of  transition  described  on  page  288. 

12.  Prepare  two  paragraphs,  contrasting  the  characters  of  two 
persons  of  whom  yon  have  read.  To  indicate  the  contrast  use  "  ou 
the  contrary  "  in  the  first  sentence  of  the  second  paragraph. 

13.  Study  the  transitions  from  paragraph  to  paragraph  in 
Scott's  "  Battle  of  Bannockburn  "  (p.  22)  ;  in  "Australian  Super- 
stition" (p.  27).    Point  out  transitional  words  or  phrases. 

14.  From  books  that  you  have  read  or  studied  within  two  days, 
make  a  list  of  words  or  phrases  that  assist  in  transition. 

Write  two  paragraphs  of  your  own,  using  one  of  these  words 
or  phrases  to  make  a  transition  from  the  first  to  the  second. 

15.  Make  a  list  of  conjunctions,  conjunctive  adverbs,  and  con- 
nective phrases  from  your  reading.  Bring  to  the  class  examples 
of  sentences  and  paragraphs  which  illustrate  their  use. 

16.  Bring  to  the  class  two  examples  of  paragraphs  in  which 
it  would  be  difficult  to  follow  the  thought  if  the  conjunctions, 
conjunctive  adverbs,  and  connective  phrases  were  omitted. 

17.  Find  examples  of  paragraphs  in  which  pronouns  and 
demonstratives  show  the  transition  from  sentence  to  sentence. 

18.  Study  the  sequence  of  paragraphs  in  "The  Smudge" 
(pp.  145-147).  Write  an  outline  of  the  exposition,  indicating 
the  substance  of  each  paragraph.  Observe  the  means  by  which 
transition  is  effected  and  coherence  secured. 

19.  Study  Carlyle's  "  Essay  on  Burns,"  or  Burke's  "  Concili- 
ation with  America,"  with  reference  to  the  transition  from  para- 
graph to  paragraph. 

20.  Prepare  two  paragraphs,  the  second  explaining  the  effect 
of  the  action  or  event  which  the  first  describes. 

21.  Write  four  or  five  paragraphs  on  "  Rain  in  Summer  "  ; 
'•  The  Character  of  Gurth  "  (in  "  Ivanhoe  ")  ;  "  The  Character 
of  Wamba " ;  "A  Typical  Norman  Baron";  "A  Saxon  Gen- 
tleman"; "Macbeth'*  Banquet  "  ;  "Portia  as  a  Lawyer"; 
'•Hip  Van  Winkle's  Return";  "  Ichabod  and  tin'  Headless 
Horseman";  "The  Mainspring  of  a  Watch."  Give  care- 
ful attention  to  unity,  coherence,  sequence  of  thought,  and 
transition. 

22.  Study  the  extracts  on  pages  296-307  in  connection  with 
the  methods  of  transition  within  the  paragraph  described  on 
pages  293-2!)<;. 


310  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

23.  Illustrate  in  sentences  of  your  own  the  use  of  the  following 
particles  (or  phrases)  of  transition:  —  however,  on  the  contrary, 
nevertheless,  therefore,  also,  in  short,  yet,  hence.  Explain  the  force  of 
each  particle  or  phrase. 

24.  Study  the  first  five  paragraphs  of  Carlyle's  "  Essay  on 
Burns,"  or  Macaulay's  "  Essay  on  Boswell's  '  Life  of  Johnson,'  " 
with  reference  to  unity,  coherence,  and  transition  within  the  para- 
graph. Note  the  use  of  transitional  particles  and  phrases  and  of 
pronouns  and  demonstrative  words  (p.  294). 

25.  Examine  each  paragraph  which  you  prepared  in  Exercise  21 
with  special  reference  to  transition  within  the  paragraph  ;  or 
exchange  compositions  with  a  classmate  for  criticism. 

26.  Write  three  or  four  paragraphs  of  description  on  one  of 
the  following  subjects,  accumulating  specific  details  (p.  298)  in 
accordance  with  a  definite  plan  :  —  "  The  Lonely  Pool  "  ;  "  Tom 
the  Bootblack  "  ;  "A  Sudden  Squall  "  ;  The  «  Skating  Rink  "  ; 
"The  Ruined  Cottage";  "An  Abandoned  Farm";  "My 
Uncle's  Chauffeur  "  ;  "  The  Indian  Encampment  "  ;  "  The  Bar- 
gain Counter  "  ;  "A  Wrecked  Automobile  "  ;  "A  Blockade  in 
the  City  "  ;  "  The  River  in  Flood." 

27.  Write  a  paragraph  defining  each  of  the  following  terms  :  — 
a  caucus,  local  option,  the  Monroe  Doctrine,  arbitration,  tragedy, 
comedy,  a  sonnet,  a  philanthropist,  an  injunction,  a  stock  company,  a 
partnership,  an  armistice,  a  walking  delegate. 

28.  Write  a  paragraph  on  one  of  the  subjects  mentioned  in 
Exercise  27,  containing  one  or  more  examples  or  illustrations. 

29.  Write  a  paragraph  combining  a  definition  (see  Exercise  27) 
with  an  example  or  illustration  (see  Exercise  28). 

30.  Write  a  paragraph  comparing  or  contrasting  :  —  a  Mohawk 
and  an  Eskimo  ;  an  elephant  and  a  camel ;  a  pencil  and  a  pen  ; 
rosewood  and  mahogany  ;  a  frog  and  a  toad  ;  a  bird  and  a  bat ; 
generosity  and  lavishness  ;  a  policeman  and  a  judge  ;  an  archi- 
tect and  a  builder  ;  wisdom  and  cunning. 

31.  Make  a  paragraph  by  developing  or  dwelling  on  one  of  the 
following  sentences  :  —  "  Criticism  is  not  faidtfinding  "  ;  "  Prac- 
tice makes  perfect  "  ;  "  Misery  is  said  to  love  company  "  ;  "He 
that  is  down  need  fear  no  fall  "  ;  "  One  may  pay  too  much  for 
the  whistle  "  ;  "  Most  proverbs  are  only  half  true  "  ;  "  War  is  a 
relic  of  barbarism." 


CHAPTER  II 

SENTENCES 
THE  STRUCTURE  OF  SENTENCES 

The  guiding  principle  in  the  structure  of  sentences  is 
simple  :  a  sentence  should  be  so  constructed  as  to  assist  the 
reader  in  grasping  and  following  the  thought.  This  principle 
involves  not  only  grammatical  correctness,  but  also  clear- 
ness, unity,  and  variety.  It  likewise  involves  a  due  regard 
to  smoothness  and  agreeable  writing  and  to  the  proper 
distribution  of  emphasis.  Carelessness  in  any  of  these 
particulars  thwarts  and  annoys  the  reader  and  may  utterly 
defeat  the  writer's  purpose. 

The  principle  in  question  applies  to  every  kind  of  com- 
position, from  a  familiar  letter  to  a  novel,  a  drama,  or  a 
history. 

UNITY  OF  THE  SENTENCE 

A  sentence,  whether  long  or  short,  should  have  unity, 
—  that  is,  it  should  be  a  complete  and  consistent  whole, 
all  the  parts  of  which  stand  in  a  proper  relation  to  each 
other. 

Tf  we  write,  for  example,  "The  natives  of  the  Andaman 
Islands  arc  said  tfl  have  no  knowledge  of  fire  and  to  be  unable  !■> 
count,  higher  than  three,"  our  sentence  is  a  unit,  for,  though  it 
contains  two  distincf  statements,  these  stand  in  a  manifesl  rela- 
tion to  each  other.  They  are  both  illustrations  of  the  extremely 
savage  e>. ml  it  ion  of  the  Andaman  islanders. 

311 


312  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

If,  on  the  other  hand,  we  write,  "  The  natives  of  the  Anda- 
man Islands  are  short  of  stature  and  are  said  to  have  no  knowledge 
of  fire, ' '  our  sentence  violates  the  principle  of  unity,  for  the  stature 
of  the  islanders  has  nothing  to  do  with  their  ignorance  of  fire. 

The  following  sentences  contain  disconnected  ideas  and 
therefore  violate  unity :  — 

1.  This  fortress,  which  was  situated  upon  a  neck  of  land,  was 
built  by  the  Russians,  who  maintained  the  institution  of  serfdom 
until  very  recent  times. 

2.  The  runaway  horse  came  tearing  down  Washington  Street, 
which  was  of  course  named  after  the  Father  of  his  Country. 

3.  The  Indians  had  the  reputation  of  being  cruel  and  revenge- 
ful, and  their  chief  crop  was  maize,  which  is  also  known  as 
Indian  .corn. 

4.  Gunpowder  was  invented  by  the  Chinese,  who  are  very 
fond  of  rice. 

5.  The  murder  was  committed  by  means  of  an  axe,  and  the 
criminal  was  arrested  at  the  house  of  his  brother-in-law. 

6.  The  Athenians  lived  in  Attica  and  probably  received  their 
alphabet  from  the  Phoenicians. 

7.  The  sea  looks  beautiful  in  the  sunlight,  and  is  very  useful 
for  the  passage  of  ships. 

8.  Rip  Van  Winkle  was  a  lazy  fellow  and  he  met  with  a  sur- 
prising adventure,  as  a  result  of  which  he  slept  for  twenty  years 
in  the  Kaatskills,  which  are  now  a  favorite  resort. 

The  disregard  of  unity  in  the  foregoing  examples  is 
so  glaring  as  to  be  ridiculous.  Often,  however,  in  a  long 
sentence,  with  modifying  clauses,  this  principle  is  vio- 
lated in  a  less  obvious,  though  equally  flagrant,  way. 
Thus,  — 

1.  The  old  Sunday  Blue  Law  was  framed  to  meet  public  senti- 
ment many  years  ago  and  conditions  which  existed  at  that  time, 
and  the  legislature  ought  to  recognize  this  change  of  conditions 
and  amend  the  laws  to  a  certain  extent,  so  that  the  laws  may  be 
enforced  and  respected,  not  be  made  ridiculous  by  their  enforce- 
ment.—  Student's  Theme. 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  VARIETY  313 

2.  Another  dramatic  incident  to  .show  the  imperative  need  of 
two  men  in  the  engine  cab  on  the  great  trains  when  the  con- 
gressional limited  train  on  the  Pennsylvania  ran  through  Phila- 
delphia last  night  at  terrific  speed  with  the  engineer,  Joseph 
Toms,  dead  at  the  throttle,  until  the  fireman  climbed  over  the 
boiler  to  find  his  head  was  hanging  out  of  the  cab  window, 
crushed  by  striking  some  obstacle Newspaper. 

Both  of  these  sentences  illustrate  incoherency  as  well  as 
lack  of  unity.  Illustrations  of  these  faults  need  not  be 
multiplied,  for  the  student  will  have  no  difficulty  in  find- 
ing examples  for  himself. 

THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  VARIETY 

Variety  in  the  length  and  structure  of  sentences  is  neces- 
sary, not  only  for  the  sake  of  smoothness,  but  also  to> 
render  our  meaning  clear  and  to  distribute  the  emphasis- 
properly.  Sameness  (or  monotony)  of  style  is  a  fatal  fault 
in  composition,  for  it  takes  the  life  out  of  the  most  inter- 
esting subject.  Variety,  on  the  other  hand,  stimulates  the 
attention  and  lends  a  certain  attractiveness  to  the  driest 
subject. 

We  may  test  the  principle  of  variety  by  looking  into 
our  own  minds  and  observing  how  they  work  in  the  every- 
day processes  of  thought.  An  easy  experiment  will  show 
that  these  operations  are  very  complicated. 

If  you  watch  your  own  thoughts  you  will  find  that,  wihih  you 
read  these  words,  there  are  in  the  background  of  your  mind  other 
ideas  and  feelings.  For  example,  you  see  the  white  page  with 
black  marks  on  it;  you  feel  the  weight  of  the  book  and  the  tex- 
ture of  the  cover  in  your  hand  ;  you  know  whether  the  room  is 
warm  or  cold  ;  you  hear  noises  outside,  -a  dog  barking,  a  hand 
organ,  the  rumble  and  hum  of  an  electric  car,  a  Eootstep  in  the 
hall.     These  things  all  occupy  your  mind    in  some  degree,   along 


314  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

with  the  sense  of  what  you  are  reading.  Moreover,  the  very  words 
dog  barking,  or  electric  car,  may  remind  you  of  something  that  you 
did  yesterday  or  intend  to  do  to-morrow.  All  the  time,  too,  your 
thoughts  are  busy,  putting  together  what  you  read,  and  applying 
its  principles  to  the  compositions  that  you  may  have  to  write. 

As  we  do  different  things,  —  study,  write,  play  games, 
walk  or  ride  in  the  country,  —  the  contents  of  the  mind 
will  be  different.  Sometimes  they  will  seem  to  be  nothing 
but  thoughts ;  sometimes  nothing  but  the  sensations  of 
the  things  about  us ;  sometimes  chiefly  memories  of  things 
and  people  in  the  past ;  sometimes  chiefly  the  desire  to  do 
something  in  the  future.  Always,  however,  this  "  stream 
of  consciousness,"  as  the  philosophers  call  it,  will  be  in 
constant  change  and  motion ;  and,  though  it  may  some- 
times seem  entirely  simple,  it  will  in  reality  be  complex, 
—  made  up,  as  it  were,  of  different  layers  of  thought  and 
sensation.  To  express  our  thoughts  clearly,  then,  must 
require  great  variety  in  the  means  of  expression.1 

Eead  Hawthorne's  "  Tanglewood  Porch"  (pp.  391-393) 
and  notice  the  ease  and  the  variety  of  his  sentences. 
Some  are  long,  others  short.  In  some,  the  meaning  is  held 
in  suspense  until  the  last  word  is  reached ;  in  others,  there 
is  a  succession  of  clauses  and  phrases,  after  any  one  of 
which  you  could  stop  without  injuring  the  sense.  Some 
of  them  ramble  on  in  the  most  natural  way ;  others  lead 
up  to  an  important  word  at  the  end.  Everywhere  we  find 
ease,  grace,  and  flexibility  of  expression. 

The  charm  of  Hawthorne's  style  consists,  in  great  part, 
in  this  adaptation  of  sentence  structure  to  every  turn  of 

1  The  purpose  of  this  simple  experiment  in  psychology  is  to  enforce  the 
inevitable  connection  between  the  processes  of  thought  and  the  principles 
of  composition.  The  student  will  observe  that  variety  in  sentence  struc- 
ture is  not  a  mere  trick  of  rhetoric,  but  a  natural  development,  growing 
out  of  the  complexity  of  human  thought. 


THE  PRINCIPLE  OF  VARIETY  315 

thought  and  fancy.    There  is  no  apparent  striving  after 
variety  for  its  own  sake. 

In  fact,  however,  such  ease  and  grace  are  not  attained, 
even  by  the  great  writers,  without  a  long  apprenticeship 
to  the  art  of  composition.  Before  Hawthorne  could  trust 
his  pen  to  follow  his  mind  through  all  its  "  forthrights 
and  meanders,"  he  had  to  familiarize  himself,  by  constant 
practice,  with  the  almost  infinite  possibilities  of  the  Eng- 
lish sentence.  This  clone,  he  commanded  his  phrases  and 
sentences  as  a  violinist  commands  his  wrist  and  fingers  in 
playing  his  instrument. 

Note.  —  For  evidence  of  the  pains  and  trouble  which  distinguished 
authors  have  had  to  take  in  learning  how  to  express  themselves,  see  Swift's 
"  Works,"  edited  by  Scott,  Vol.  XV,  p.  252 ;  Franklin's  "  Autobiography," 
Bigelow's  edition,  Vol.  I,  Part  I,  pp.  109  ff . ;  Trevelyan's  "  Life  and  Letters 
of  Lord  Macaulay,"  New  York,  1898,  Vol.  II,  PP-  191-204;  Stevenson's 
essay  entitled  "  A  College  Magazine,"  in  his  "  Memories  and  Portraits  "  ; 
Darwin's  "  Life  and  Letters,"  New  York,  1887,  Vol.  I,  p.  80.  The  passage 
in  Darwin  is  interesting  with  respect  to  the  method  cf  arranging  an 
exposition. 

The  free  syntax  of  our  language,  together  with  its  large 
and  diversified  stock  of  words,  makes  variety  an  easy 
merit  in  English  writing;  for  the  same  idea  may  often 
be  expressed  in  several  different  ways  by  changing  the 
grammatical  construction. 

Examples1  of  "  equivalent  constructions  "  are  :  adjectives,  adjec- 
tive phrases,  and  adjective  clauses  (§§  121-123,  204-207);  ad- 
verbs, adverbial  phrases,  and  adverbial  clauses  (§§  124-181, 
195-200);  nouns  and  noun  clauses  (§§  208-211);  active  and 
passive  (§§  464-466)  ;  nouns  and  infinitives  (§§  1  18,  533-536)  ; 
infinitives  and  clauses  of  purpose  and  result  (§§  585  589)  ;  infini- 
tive clauses  (§§  611-617);  clauses  of  cause,  time,  place,  and  cir- 
cumstance, and  the  nominative  absolute  (§§  492-1  95). 

iThe  references  are  to  "The  Mother  Tongue,"  Book  II,  where  the 
constructions  in  question  are  defined  ami  illustrated. 


316  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

KINDS  OF  SENTENCES 

Sentences,  as  we  have  learned  in  our  study  of  grammar, 
may  be  simple,  compound,  or  complex.  Each  of  these  forms 
gives  a  different  turn  to  the  thought  expressed.  We  must 
therefore  consider  the  special  character  and  value  of  each, 
and  how  each  may  be  made  useful  in  writing. 

Since  the  form  of  a  sentence  helps  to  show  the  relations 
between  the  ideas  expressed,  it  is  evident  that  skill  in  con- 
structing sentences  is  of  direct  aid  in  the  expression  of  our 
thought ;.  and,  on  the  other  hand,  that  an  inappropriate  form 
of  sentence  may  obscure  the  meaning  as  much  as  a  wrong 
word.  We  should  train  ourselves,  therefore,  to  use  different 
kinds  of  sentences  until  they  are  as  thoroughly  at  our  com- 
mand as  our  vocabulary,  so  that  each  thought  will  flow 
naturally  and  automatically  into  the  mould  best  suited  to 
express  it. 

SIMPLE  SENTENCES 

The  value  of  short  simple  sentences  in  connected  writing 
consists  chiefly  in  their  power  to  produce  emphasis ;  but  a 
style  consisting  of  such  sentences  alone  is  likely  to  be  both 
tiresome  and  Uncouth. 

The  force  of  simple  sentences,  when  properly  employed, 
may  be  seen  from  the  following  paragraph  on  Liberty 
from  Macaulay's  "  Essay  on  Milton  "  :  — 

Ariosto  tells  a  pretty  story  of  a  fairy,  who,  by  some  mysterious 
law  of  her  nature,  was  condemned  to  appear  at  certain  seasons  in 
the  form  of  a  foul  and  poisonous  snake.  Those  who  injured  her 
during  the  period  of  her  disguise  were  forever  excluded  from  par- 
ticipation in  the  blessings  which  she  bestowed.  But  to  those  who, 
in  spite  of  her  loathsome  aspect,  pitied  and  protected  her,  she 
afterwards  revealed  herself  in  the  beautiful  and  celestial  form 


SIMPLE   SENTENCES  317 

which  was  natural  to  her,  accompanied  their  steps,  granted  all 
their  wishes,  filled  their  houses  with  wealth,  made  them  happy  in 
love  and  victorious  in  war.  Such  a  spirit  is  Liberty.  At  times  she 
takes  the  form  of  a  hateful  reptile.  She  grovels,  she  hisses,  she 
stings.  But  woe  to  those  who  in  disgust  shall  venture  to  crush 
her  !  And  happy  are  those  who,  having  dared  to  receive  her 
in  her  degraded  and  frightful  shape,  shall  at  length  he  rewarded 
by  her  in  the  time  of  her  beauty  and  her  glory  ! 

Observe  the  two  short  simple  sentences,  "  Such  a  spirit 
is  Liberty.  At  times  she  takes  the  form  of  a  hateful  rep- 
tile." Coming,  as  they  do,  after  several  longer  sentences, 
the}'  are  singularly  emphatic  by  reason  of  their  brevity 
and  directness.  Thus  it  appears  that  a  short  simple  sen- 
tence, without  many  modifiers,  is  of  great  service  when 
we  wish  to  make  an  important  fact  or  idea  stand  out 
prominently  in  the  reader's  mind,  and  that  its  effective- 
ness is  increased  when  it  comes  into  contrast  with  other 
sentences  of  greater  length  and  complexity. 

A  short  simple  sentence  is  often  used  at  the  beginning 
of  a  paragraph  to  state  the  subject,  as  in  the  following 
passage  from  Goldsmith:  — 

Feio  virtues  hare  been  more  praised  by  moralists  than  gcn<  rosity. 
Every  practical  treatise  of  ethics  tends  to  increase  our  sensibility 
of  the  distresses  of  others,  and  to  relax  the  grasp  of  frugality. 
Philosophers  that  are  poor  praise  it,  because  they  are  gainers  by 
its  effects  ;  and  the  opulent  Seneca  himself  has  written  a  treatise 
on  benefits,  though  he  was  known  to  give  nothing  away. 

Tor  other  examples  of  this  use  of  simple  sentences  see 
pages  283-284. 

A  short  simple  sentence  is  also  effective  at  tin-  end  of  a 
paragraph  to  sum  up  or  enforce  the  thought  that  hasbeeD 
dwelt  on  ami  developed  in  whal  precedes.  This  effective- 
ness is  enhanced  if  the  sentence  is  pithy  ami  epigrammatic 


318  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Thus  Thackeray  closes  a  long  paragraph  on  the  motives 
of  studying  history  as  follows  :  — 

I  take  up  a  volume  of  Doctor  Smollett,  or  a  volume  of  the 
"  Spectator,"  and  say  the  fiction  carries  a  greater  amount  of  truth 
in  solution  than  the  volume  which  purports  to  be  all  true.  Out  of 
the  fictitious  book  I  get  the  expression  of  the  life  of  the  time  ;  of 
the  manners,  of  the  movement,  the  dress,  the  pleasures,  the  laugh- 
ter, the  ridicules  of  society,  —  the  old  times  live  again,  and  I  travel 
in  the  old  country  of  England.  Can  the  heaviest  historian  do  more 
for  me  ?  * 

For  other  examples  of  the  method  of  closing  a  paragraph 
with  a  short  sentence,  see  pages  284-285. 

Again,  a  series  of  short  sentences  is  often  forcible. 

In  the  sixth  paragraph  of  Macaulay's  "  Siege  of  Arcot  "  (p.  397), 
there  is  a  series  of  five  short  sentences  beginning  with  the  words 
Rajah  Sahib.  Such  a  series  gives  an  effect  of  suspense  and  excite- 
ment which  could  be  produced  in  no  other  way. 

There  is  one  risk,  however,  hi  using  a  series  of  short 
sentences :  the  passage  may  sound  disjointed  or  "  jerky." 

This  fault  Macaulay  avoids  with  great  skill.  For  several  lines 
he  changes  the  sentence  structure  as  little  as  possible.  In  four 
successive  short  sentences  he  keeps  our  attention  on  Rajah  Sahib, 
the  subject  of  the  first  ;  and  in  two  of  them,  with  the  longer 
sentence  which  follows,  he  uses  the  same  subject  (he).  Thus  the 
thought  is  so  closely  connected  by  means  of  the  likeness  in  struc- 
ture that  the  series  of  short  sentences  does  not  seem  disjointed. 

For  other  examples  of  a  series  of  short  sentences,  see  the 
extracts  from  Charles  Lamb  (p.  122),  Dr.  John  Brown 
(p.  180),  and  Macaulay  (p.  305). 

Note.  —Too  great  stress  should  not  lie  laid  on  the  grammatical  distinc- 
tion between  simple  and  compound  sentences.  The  difference  in  rhetorical 
effect  hetween  short  compound  sentences  and  simple  sentences  of  ahout  the 
same  length  is  often  very  slight.  The  effect  produced  by  the  compound 
sentences  is  somewhat  more  flowing,  by  the  simple  sentences  what  musi- 
cians would  call  more  staccato. 

1  From  "  The  English  Humorists  of  the  Eighteenth  Century." 


COMPOUND   SENTENCES  319 

COMPOUND  SENTENCES 

A  compound  sentence  affords  the  simplest  means  of 
expressing  two  or  more  ideas  in  combination  as  a  single 
idea  of  a  more  comprehensive  kind.  This  form  of  sen- 
tence structure  is,  in  fact,  an  indication  to  the  reader 
that  the  clauses  are  not  to  be  taken  separately,  as  the 
expression  of  unrelated  facts,  but  are  to  fall  together  in 
his  mind  as  parts  of  a  larger  whole. 

The  manner  in  which  the  clauses  are  joined  points  out 
their  bearing  on  each  other.  If  we  use  and  to  connect 
them,  we  indicate  that  they  have  the  same  general  bear- 
ing —  that  they  are  simply  to  be  regarded  as  component 
parts  of  a  larger  unit.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  shows  that 
the  clause  that  follows  is  opposed  to  that  which  precedes. 
Or  signifies  that  the  clauses  are  alternatives ;  for,  that 
one  gives  the  reason  of  the  other.  Finally,  if  we  employ 
a  colon,  a  semicolon,  or  a  comma  instead  of  a  connective, 
we  indicate  merely  that  the  ideas  should  be  taken  together, 
but  we  do  not  define  their  relation  to  each  other. 

Newman's  "Definition  of  a  Gentleman"  (p.  399)  illus- 
trates the  proper  function  of  compound  sentences. 

Here  the  author  has  to  enumerate  a  great  many  qualities  and 
habits  which  together  make  up  the  character  that  he  is  describ- 
ing, and  which,  in  his  estimation,  are  all  of  nearly  equal  impor- 
tance. Hence  he  uses  many  compound  sentences;  lor  in  such 
a  sentence  the  clauses  are  coordinate,  —  that  is,  of  equal  order 
or  rank. 

ABUSE  OF  COMPOUND  SENTENCES 

The  commonest  abuse  of  compound  sentences  comes 
from  indolence  and  vague  thinking,  and  results  in  an 
intolerable  sameness  of  style  Nothing  is  more  tiresome 
and  monotonous  than   a   string  of  nnselected   coordinate 


320  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

clauses  loosely  held  together  by  and's.  Such  a  style 
betrays  the  writer's  lack  of  discrimination.  It  shows 
that  he  distinguishes  neither  the  comparative  impor- 
tance of  the  statements  that  he  makes  nor  their  logical 
relation  to  each  other  in  the  expression  of  Ins  thought. 

An  extreme  instance  of  this  abuse  is  the  slovenly 
habit,  in  telling  a  story,  of  tacking  all  the  sentences 
together  with  and's,  no  matter  whether  they  contain  im- 
portant details  or  not.  Thus  the  reader's  attention  is  frit- 
tered away  on  trivial  facts,  until  he  feels  as  if  he  were 
ploughing  Ins  way  through  drifts  of  dust.  Such  crude 
coordination  is  very  different  from  the  solidity  and  direct- 
ness which  gives  power  to  the  biblical  style. 

The  same  fault  is  illustrated  by  the  trick  of  writing 
in  isolated  compound  sentences,  each  consisting  of  two 
clauses  joined  by  this  same  conjunction  and,  as  in  the 
following  passage  from  an  essay  on  the  system  of  training 
crews  at  a  large  university  :  — 

Gradually  the  candidates  are  rounded  into  form  and  those  hav- 
ing greater  aptitude  show  greater  and  greater  improvement.  The 
most  elementary  work  is  over  and  now  it  becomes  necessary  to 
devote  more  attention  to  each  man  personally.  The  class  is  yet 
very  large  and  this  can  be  done  only  by  weeding  out  the  ones  that 
are  most  backward.  No  preference  is  shown  and  any  man  show- 
ing up  well  will  be  retained.  The  method  is  entirely  competitive 
and  every  one  is  given  an  equal  chance. 

Here  we  have  ten  consecutive  statements,  uniformly 
arranged  in  coordinated  pairs.  The  passage  is  so  monot- 
onous and  uninteresting  that  it  is  hard  to  keep  the  mind 
awake  while  we  read  it.  Further,  the  ill-judged  coordi- 
nation obscures  the  two  points  that  the  writer  is  endeav- 
oring to  make :  (1)  that  the  system  leads  to  a  gradual 
selection  of  the  best  men,  and  (2)  that  in  this  selection 
every  one  has  a  fair  chance. 


COMPLEX   SENTENCES  321 

The  passage  might  be  rewritten  as  follows :  — 

Gradually,  as  the  elementary  work  is  over  and  the  candidates 
are  rounded  into  form,  those  who  have  greater  aptitude  show 
greater  and  greater  improvement.  It  now  becomes  necessary  to 
devote  more  attention  to  each  man  personally;  but,  inasmuch  as 
the  class  is  still  very  large,  this  can  be  done  only  by  weeding  out 
those  who  are  most  backward.  Since  the  method  is  entirely  com- 
petitive and  no  preference  is  shown,  any  man  who  promises  well  is 
retained.    Every  one  has  an  equal  chance. 

Lti  this  new  form  no  attempt  has  been  made  to  strike 
out  the  repetitions,  and  few  changes  have  been  made  in 
the  feeble  wording  of  the  original;  but  now  the  two 
main  points  stand  out  conspicuously.  As  you  read  the 
passage,  you  grasp  its  meaning  without  effort ;  for  the 
statements  are  so'  arranged  by  means  of  the  sentence 
structure  that  the  important  facts  cannot  fail  to  catch 
the  attention. 

It  is  important  to  remember  that  coordination  is  not  a  rhetor- 
ical fault.  We  should  carefully  distinguish  between  those  cases 
in  which  this  structure  best  expresses  the  thought  and  those  in 
which  it  represents  no  thought  at  all. 


COMPLEX  SENTENCES 

Thought  is  not  a  simple  process.  The  experiment  on 
page  313  has  shown  us  that  the  idea  on  which  our  atten- 
tion is  fixed  at  a  given  moment  is  always  accompanied 
and  followed  by  other  ideas  which  color  or  modify  it. 
The  relations  among  these  ideas  are  often  so  complicated 
that  simple  and  even  compound  sentences  provide  no 
adecpuate  means  of  expressing  them.  Yet  they  must  be 
expressed.  Hence  language,  adapting  itself  to  the  ever- 
growing complexity  of  thought,  has  wrought  out  the 
complex  sentence. 


322  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Compare  a  young  child  and  a  trained  naturalist  en- 
gaged in  observing  the  same  occurrence. 

The  child  sees  the  main  act  and  is  content  with  expressing  it 
in  a  simple  sentence,  —  "  My  cat  caught  a  rat." 

The  man  of  science  notes  many  other  significant  details.  In 
the  build  of  the  cat,  in  its  manner  of  crouching  and  swishing  its 
tail,  in  the  stripes  of  its  fur,  in  the  way  in  which  its  claws  are 
hidden  in  the  cushions,  he  detects  its  relation  to  the  other  feline 
animals,  —  such  as  the  lion,  the  tiger,  and  the  panther.  I  lis 
thought  is  therefore  far  more  complicated  than  the  child's,  and 
accordingly  his  expression  of  that  thought  requires  a  complex 
sentence.  He  might  say,  perhaps,  "  Since  the  cat  belongs  to  the 
feline  race,  it  crouches  and  springs  when  it  catches  a  rat";  or, 
"  The  cat,  as  it  crouches  beside  the  rat-hole,  shows  the  same 
instinct  that  prompts  a  tiger  to  hide  in  the  jungle  near  a  pool 
to  which  the  deer  come  to  drink." 

If  the  naturalist  had  only  simple  or  compound  sentences  to 
use,  he  would  find  it  well-nigh  impossible  to  indicate  the  relations 
between  the  various  facts  as  they  lie  in  his  mind.  "  The  cat 
crouches  by  the  rat-hole  ;  the  tiger  crouches  by  a  pool  in  the 
jungle  ;  the  deer  come  to  the  pool  to  drink  ;  the  cat  and  the 
tiger  have  the  same  instinct,"  would  be  a  ludicrously  insufficient 
expression  of  the  thought  which  he  wishes  to  convey. 

The  history  of  language  is  much  like  the  experience  of 
a  child  learning  to  talk.  In  both  cases,  the  order  of  de- 
velopment is  from  simple  sentences  to  compound,  and 
from  compound  sentences  to  complex.  The  growth  is 
natural,  not  artificial ;  and  the  development  of  sentence 
structure  has  simply  kept  pace  with  the  development  of 
the  human  intellect. 

In  this  process  of  linguistic  development,  the  numerous 
subordinating  words  (relative  pronouns,  relative  adverbs 
and  subordinate  conjunctions)  have  acquired  their  pres- 
ent functions.  The  variety  of  these  words  and  their  man- 
ifold use  show  how  essential  the  complex  sentence  has 
become  in  the  expression  of  thought. 


PERIODIC   AND   LOOSE   SENTENCES  323 

Our  study  of  grammar  has  already  made  us  ac- 
quainted with  the  different  kinds  of  subordinate  clauses 
and  with  the  ideas  that  they  convey.  The  pronoun, 
adverb,  or  conjunction  that  introduces  the  subordinate 
clause  serves,  in  each  case,  as  a  kind  of  signpost  to  point 
the  way  which  the  reader's  mind  is  to  take.  Thus,  because 
indicates  that  the  subordinate  clause  that  follows  gives 
the  cause  or  reason  of  the  statement  made  in  the  main 
clause ;  in  order  that  suggests  purpose ;  though,  conces- 
sion ;  if,  condition,  and  so  on. 

PERIODIC  AND   LOOSE  SENTENCES 

Sometimes  the  different  parts  of  our  thought  are  so 
various,  and  yet  so  intimately  related,  that,  without  a 
complex  sentence,  which  knits  together  the  different 
strands  by  means  of  subordinate  clauses,  participial 
phrases,  and  similar  modifiers,  we  should  find  it  impos- 
sible to  bring  our  meaning  to  an  adequate  expression. 
At  other  times,  our  ideas  take  shape  one  by  one,  in 
orderly  sequence,  but  without  combining,  or  much  affect- 
ing each  other,  and  accordingly  our  sentences  fall  natu- 
rally into  the  compound  structure,  and  their  parts  are 
held  together  by  coordinate  conjunctions. 

In  the  former  case,  the  sense  and  the  grammatical  con- 
struction may  be  so  suspended  that  neither  is  complete 
until  the  last  word  of  the  sentence  is  reached.  Such  a 
sentence  is  said  to  be  periodic.  In  the  latter  case,  we  can 
stop  at  one  or  more  points  before  we  come  to  the  end.  and 
the  sentence  is  still  grammatically  complete.  Such  a  sen- 
tence is  said  to  be  loose.  The  same  distinct  inn  is  made  in 
the  structure  of  individual  clauses. 

The  first  sentence  in  the  last  paragraph  l>ut  one  is  periodic,  t lie 
second  is  loose. 


824  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

It  is  important  to  remark  that  the  adjective  loose  in 
this  sense  is  merely  a  technical  term  describing  a  kind 
of  sentence  structure.  It  carries  no  suggestion  of  reproach. 
Loose  sentences  are  just  as  proper  as  periodic  sentences. 
In  fact,  the  natural  tendency  of  our  language  is  partic- 
ularly favorable  to  them,  as  the  natural  tendency  of  Latin 
is  favorable  to  the  periodic  structure.  Comparatively 
few  English  sentences  are  periodic  throughout,  though 
many  are  partly  so  and  single  clauses  are  often  built  on 
the  periodic  plan.  Excessive  periodicity  is  stilted  ;  exces- 
sive looseness  is  slovenly.  The  best  style  is  that  which 
adapts  the  form  of  the  sentences  easily  and  spontaneously 
to  the  character  of  the  thought  expressed. 

Let  us  examine  the  following  passage  from  Thackeray's 
"  Pendennis  "  :  — 

Shortly  after  Strong  had  quitted  the  room,  and  whilst  Mr.  Pen, 
greatly  irate  at  his  downfall  in  the  waltz,  which  made  him  look 
ridiculous  in  the  eyes  of  the  nation,  and  by  Miss  Amory's  behavior 
to  him,  which  had  still  further  insulted  his  dignity,  was  endeavor- 
ing to  get  some  coolness  of  body  and  temper  by  looking  out  of 
window  towards  the  sea,  which  was  sparkling  in  the  distance,  and 
murmuring  in  a  wonderful  calm,  — whilst  he  was  really  trying  to 
compose  himself,  and  owning  to  himself,  perhaps,  that  he  had  acted 
in  a  very  absurd  and  peevish  manner  during  the  night,  —  he  felt  a 
hand  on  his  shoulder ;  and,  on  looking  round,  beheld  to  his  utter  sur- 
prise and  horror,  that  the  hand  in  question  belonged  to  Monsieur 
Mirobolant,  whose  eyes  were  glaring  out  of  his  pale  face  and 
ringlets  at  Mr.  Pen.  To  be  tapped  on  the  shoulder  by  a  French 
cook  was  a  piece  of  familiarity  which  made  the  blood  of  the 
Pendennises  to  boil  up  in  the  veins  of  their  descendant,  and  he 
was  astounded,  almost  more  than  enraged,  at  such  an  indignity. 

The  first  sentence  in  this  passage  is  periodic  as  far  as  a 
hand  on  his  shoulder.  The  author,  wishing  us  to  compre- 
hend Pen's  frame  of  mind  at  the  moment  when  Mirobo- 
lant ventured  to  be  familiar,  does  not  allow  our  minds  to 


PERIODIC   AND  LOOSE  SENTENCES  325 

close  the  thought  until  he  has  brought  together  all  the 
details  which  contributed,  to  that  frame  of  mind.  The  rest 
of  the  sentence  is  looser  in  structure.  The  second  sentence 
is  partly  periodic  and  partly  loose.  Both  arc  excellent, 
and  neither  is  better  than  the  other. 

An  excellent  specimen  of  a.  loose  sentence  may  be  taken 
from  the  same  page  of  "  Pendennis." 

"  The  consequences  are  that  I  will  fling  you  out  of  window,  you 
impudent  scoundrel,"  bawled  out  Mr.  Pen;  and,  darting  upon  the 
Frenchman,  he  would  very  likely  have  put  his  threat  into  execu- 
tion, for  the  window  was  at  hand,  and  the  artist  by  no  means  a 
match  for  the  young  gentleman  —  had  not  Captain  Broadfoot  and 
another  heavy  officer  flung  themselves  between  the  combatants, 
—  had  not  the  ladies  begun  to  scream,  —  had  not  the  fiddle 
stopped,  —  had  not  the  crowd  of  people  come  running  in  that 
direction,  —  had  not  Laura,  with  a  face  of  great  alarm,  looked  over 
their  heads  and  asked  for  Heaven's  sake  what  was  wrong, —  had 
not  the  opportune  Strong  made  his  appearance  from  the  refresh- 
ment-room, and  found  Alcide  grinding  his  teeth  and  jabbering 
oaths  in  his  Gascon  French,  and  Pen  looking  uncommonly 
wicked,  although  trying  to  appear  as  calm  as  possible  when  the 
ladies  and  the  crowd  came  up. 

Here  the  long  succession  of  clauses,  added  one  after  another, 
is  well  adapted  to  express  the  swift  succession  of  events. 
In  this  sentence,  then,  the  loose  structure  is  preferable  to 
the  periodic. 

These  two  sentences  from  the  same  page  of  a  great 
master  of  English  may  serve  to  counteract  the  erroneous 
notion  that  a  loose  sentence  is  a  bad  .sentence,  or  indicative 
of  looseness  of  thought.  The  term  is  an  unfortunate  one, 
but  is  fixed  in  the  technical  vocabulary  of  rhetoric  Loose 
sentences  are  prevalent  in  the  very  best  authors,  and 
strictly  periodic  sentences  are  correspondingly  rare  Mod- 
ern Knglish  style  tends  distinctly  toward  moderate  loose- 
ness and  away  from  elaborate  periodicity. 


326  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

One  form  of  looseness  in  complex  sentences  is  particu- 
larly objectionable.  English  is  fond  of  relative  construc- 
tions, and  there  is,  in  grammatical  theory,  no  limit  to  the 
number  of  relative  clauses  that  a  complex  sentence  may 
include.  In  practice,  however,  we  must  take  care  not  to 
multiply  such  clauses  excessively.  A  long  chain  of  rela- 
tives (as  in  "  The  House  that  Jack  Built  ")  gives  a  sentence 
the  air  of  running  on  forever  because  it  does  not  know 
where  to  stop.  Unity  is  pretty  sure  to  be  violated.  The 
effect  is  not  only  ungraceful  but  extremely  confusing,  and 
may  even  become  ridiculous,  as  the  intention  is  in  the 
nursery  tale  just  mentioned. 

EMPHASIS  IN  SENTENCES 

In  speaking,  we  use  emphasis,  or  stress  of  the  voice,  to 
assist  the  hearer  in  understanding  exactly  what  we  mean. 
In  writing,  it  is  not  always  easy  to  indicate  such  emphasis. 
Yet,  unless  the  reader  knows  which  words  or  phrases  are 
meant  to  be  emphatic,  he  may  lose  the  effect  of  a  whole 
sentence.  In  verse  the  metre  is  of  assistance.  In  prose 
we  must  trust  much  to  the  reader's  intelligence,  but  some 
help  is  afforded  by  the  order  of  words. 

The  following  examples  show  how  any  variation  from 
the  simplest  order  makes  a  difference  in  emphasis.  Thus, 
in  the  first  example,  the  object  is  put  before  the  subject 
and  the  verb ;  hi  the  fourth,  an  adverb  comes  first,  and 
the  subject  follows  was ;  in  the  thirteenth,  the  adverbial 
modifier  for  an  instant  begins  the  sentence. 

1.  Such  evil  sin  hath  wrought.  —  Cowper. 

2.  In  the  night  it  blew  very  hard,  and  a  great  sea  tumbled  in 
upon  the  shore;  but,  being  extremely  fatigued,  we  in  the  boats 
went  to  sleep.  —  Admiral  Byron. 


EMPHASIS    IX    SENTENCES  327 

3.  Think,  when  we  talk  of  horses,  that  you  sec  them 
Printing-  their  proud  hoofs  i'  the  receiving  earth. 

Sn  A.KSPERE. 

4.  Never  was  such  a  sudden  scholar  made.  —  Sn  vkspere. 

5.  Some  war,  some  plague,  some  famine  they  foresee. —  Pope. 

6.  The  fur  that  warms  a  monarch,  warmed  a  bear.  —  Pope. 

7.  Eleven  months,   at    different    times,    have     I     passed    at 
Florence.  —  Gray. 

8.  There,  fast  rooted  in  their  bank, 

Stand,  never  overlooked,  our  favorite  elms.  —  Cowper. 

9.  With  blackest  moss  the  flower-pots 

Were  thickly  crusted,  one  and  all.  —  Tennyson. 

10.  Of  political  wisdom,  indeed,  in  its  larger  and  more  gener- 
ous sense,  Elizabeth  had  little  or  none  ;  but  her  political  tact  was 
unerring.  —  J.  R.  Green. 

11.  By  this  treaty,  the  condition  of  the  war  with  the  Dutch  was 
widely  altered.  —  Swift. 

12.  In  this  uncertainty,  he  rode  up  to  the  little  wicket  of  Alice's 
garden.  —  Scott. 

13.  For  an  instant  after  entering  the  room,  the  guest  stood 
still,  retaining  Ilepzibah's  hand,  instinctively,  as  a  child  does  that 
of  the  grown  person  who  guides  it.  —  Hawthorne. 

14.  Of  all  the  wars  which  have  had  a  permanent  influence  upon 
the  civil  history  of  mankind,  none  could  so  little  be  anticipate!  I  1  > y 
human  prudence  as  that  effected  by  the  religion  of  Arabia. 

Hallam. 

Variations  in  the  order  of  words  for  the  sake  of  emphasis 
cannot  be  reduced  to  hard-and-fast  rules.  Three  special 
points,  however,  deserve  notice:  — 

1.  A  word,  phrase,  or  clause  is  often  emphasized  by 
('(uuing  before  the  subject  of  the  sentence,  as  in  several  of 
the  examples  above. 

2.  The  subject  and  the  predicate  verb  may,  one  or  both, 
become  emphatic  when  they  change  places  in  the  sentence 
or  clause.    This  arrangement  is  called  "  the  inverted  older." 

1.  Rack  darted  Spurius  Eartius  ; 

Herminius  darted  back.  —  Macaulay. 


.328  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

2.  Then  up  rose  Mrs.  Cratchit,  Cratchit's  wife,  dressed  out  but 
poorly  in  a  twice-turned  gown,  but  brave  in  ribbons,  which  are 
cheap  and  make  a  goodly  show  for  sixpence.  —  Dickens. 

3.  So  pass  the  sultry  dog-days,  in  the  most  electric  manner,  and 
the  whole  month  of  July.  —  Carlyle. 

4.  In  such  bodies,  existing  by  purchase  for  ready  money,  there 
could  not  be  excess  of  public  spirit ;  there  might  well  be  excess  of 
eagerness  to  divide  the  public  spoil.  —  Carlyle. 

5.  This  mad  excitement  over,  there  returned,  with  tenfold 
force,  the  dreadful  consciousness  of  his  crime.  — Dickens. 

6.  Below  them,  from  the  gull-rock,  rose  a  thousand  birds,  and 
filled  the  air  with  sound.  —  Charles  Kingsley. 

7.  There  came  a  day  when  the  round  of  decorous  pleasures  and 
solemn  gaieties  in  which  Mr.  Joseph  Sedley's  family  indulged,  was 
interrupted  by  an  event  which  happens  in  most  houses. 

Thackeray. 

8.  There  was  at  first  a  deep  silence,  and  then  a  rushing  sound, 
or  a  noise  like  a  long  sigh,  proceeding  out  of  the  interior  of  the 
earth.  —  Hawthorne. 

9.  Here  lies  the  sweet  bay,  gleaming  peaceful  in  the  rosy  sun- 
shine ;  green  islands  dip  here  and  there  in  its  waters  ;  purple 
mountains  swell  circling  round  it ;  and  towards  them,  rising  from 
the  bay,  stretches  a  rich  green  plain,  fruitful  with  herbs  and  vari- 
ous foliage,  in  the  midst  of  which  the  white  houses  twinkle. 

Thackeray. 

3.  The  end  of  a  clause  or  sentence  is  often  an  emphatic 
position.1    Thus,  — 

1.  About  a  month  since,  I  had  a  letter  from  one  whom  you 
remember,  and  from  whom  I  little  expected  to  hear,  —  James 
Nichols.  —  Cowper. 

2.  When  we  consider  either  the  history  of  opinion,  or  the  ordi- 
nary conduct  of  human  life,  to  what  is  it  to  be  ascribed  that  the 
one  and  the  other  are  no  worse  than  they  are?  —  J.  S.  Mill. 

3.  The  modern  modes  of  travelling  cannot  compare  with  the 
old  mail-coach  system  in  grandeur  and  power.  —  De  Quincey. 

4.  That  a  historian  should  not  record  trifles,  that  he  should 
•confine  himself  to  what  is  important,  is  perfectly  true.    But  many 

i  Compare  climax  (pp.  334-336) . 


EMPHASIS    IX    SENTENCES  329 

writers  seem   never  to   have  considered  on  what  the  historical 
importance  of  an  event  depends. —  Macaulay. 

5.  But  it  is  not  only  the  difficulty  and  labor  which  men  take 
in  finding  out  of  truth,  —  nor,  again,  that,  when  it  is  found,  it 
imposeth  upon  men's  thoughts,  —  that  doth  bring  lies  in  favor; 
bat  a  natural  though  corrupt  love  of  the  lie  itself.  —  Bacon. 

6.  It  must  needs  be  a  great  wonder  to  those  that  think  the 
"  Letters  "  genuine,  how  or  where  they  were  concealed,  in  what 
secret  cave  or  unknown  corner  of  the  world,  so  that  nobody  ever 
heard  of  them  for  a  thousand  years  together.  —  Bentjley. 

In  attempting  to  secure  emphasis  by  departing  from 
the  usual  order  of  words,  we  should  take  care  not  to  make 
our  sentences  sound  either  harsh  or  unnatural.  The  poets 
are  very  free  in  this  respect,  but  prose  writers,  though  they 
have  all  the  liberty  they  need,  must  refrain  from  violent 
distortions,  unless  they  wish  to  be  accused  of  affectation 
and  mannerism. 

Emphasis  may  be  indicated  by  the  structure  of  a  complex 
sentence. 

Contrast  the  following  sentences :  — 

The  constitution  was  adopted  by  all  the  states,  and  "Washington 
was  elected  president. 

After  the  constitution  was  adopted  by  all  the  states,  Washington 
was  elected  president. 

The  constitution  was  adopted  by  all  the  states  before  Washing- 
ton was  elected  president. 

The  first  sentence  is  compound;  the  second  and  third  are 
complex.  In  the  first,  there  is  no  distinction  of  emphasis 
between  the  two  clauses.  In  the  second,  the  emphasis  is 
thrown  on  the  election  of  Washington  :  in  tin'  third,  on 
the  adoption  of  the  constitution.  Thus,  by  the  change  of 
a  single  word,  it  is  possible  to  throw  one  or  another  state- 
ment into  stronger  relief,  since  the  emphasis  naturally  rests 
on  the  main  clause. 


330  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

ANTITHESIS 

Antithesis  (that  is,  "  opposition  ")  is  a  contrast 1  between 
different  ideas  or  thoughts,  whether  these  are  expressed 
in  single  words  or  in  groups  of  words.  The  antithesis  is 
often  emphasized  by  putting  the  contrasted  words,  phrases, 
or  clauses  in  the  same  relative  position  in  the  sentence,  — 
that  is,  by  parallelism  of  arrangement.    Thus,  — 

Talent  is  power,  tact  is  skill ;  talent  is  weight,  tact  is  momen- 
tum. Talent  knows  what  to  do,  tact  knows  how  to  do  it ;  talent 
makes  a  man  respectable,  tact  will  make  him  respected ;  talent 
is  wealth,  tact  is  ready  money. 

Here  the  difference  between  talent  and  tact  is  made  evi- 
dent almost  as  much  by  the  structure  of  the  sentence  as 
by  the  antithetical  words. 

Skilful  use  of  antithesis  produces  an  effect  of  epigram- 
matic pungency ;  excessive  use  of  it,  an  effect  of  shallow 
•cleverness. 

In  the  following  examples  of  antithesis,  there  is  some- 
times parallelism  of  arrangement  and  sometimes  not :  — 

1.  I  am  the  last  of  noble  Edward's  sons, 

Of  whom  thy  father,  prince  of  Wales,  was  first. 
In  war,  was  never  lion  raged  more  fierce ; 
In  peace,  was  never  gentle  lamb  more  mild. 

Shakspere. 

2.  If  all  the  year  were  playing  holidays, 

To  sport  would  be  as  tedious  as  to  Avork. —  Shakspere. 

3.  See  the  same  man  in  vigor,  in  the  gout ; 
Alone,  in  company ;  in  place,  or  out  ; 
Early  at  business,  and  at  hazard  late ; 

Mad  at  a  fox-chase,  wise  at  a  debate.  —  Pope. 

4.  Tom  struts  a  soldier,  open,  bold  and  brave  ; 

Will  sneaks  a  scrivener,  an  exceeding  knave.  —  Pope. 

1  Compare  what  is  said  of  contrast  in  description  (pp.  122  ff.)  and  exposi- 
tion (pp.  182  ff.).    Such  contrasts  are  regularly  brought  out  by  antithesis. 


ANTITHESIS  331 

5.  His  spirit  was  active,  but  his  pen  had  been  indolent. 

Gibbon. 

6.  Envy,  which  is  the  canker  of  honor,  is  best  extinguished 
by  declaring  a  man's  self  in  his  ends  rather  to  seek  merit  than 
fame,  and  by  attributing  a  man's  successes  rather  to  divine  provi- 
dence and  felicity  than  to  his  own  virtue  or  policy.  —  Bacon. 

7.  Read  not  to  contradict  and  confute,  nor  to  believe  and  take 
for  granted,  nor  to  find  talk  and  discourse,  but  to  weigh  and 
consider.  —  Bacon. 

8.  He  will  beard  a  superstition,  and  shudder  at  the  old  phan- 
tom while  he  does  it.  One  could  imagine  him  cracking  a  jest  in 
the  teeth  of  a  ghost,  and  then  melting  into  thin  air  himself  out 
of  sympathy  with  the  awful. —  Leigh  Hunt. 

9.  The  good  are  befriended  by  weakness  and  defect.  As  no 
man  ever  had  a  point  of  pride  that  was  not  injurious  to  him,  so  no 
man  ever  had  a  defect  that  was  not  somewhere  made  useful  to  him. 
The  stag  in  the  fable  admired  his  horns  and  blamed  his  feet ;  but 
when  the  hunter  came,  his  feet  saved  him,  and  afterwards,  caught 
in  the  thicket,  his  horns  destroyed  him.  —  Emerson. 

10.  Compare  the  two.  This  I  offer  to  give  you  is  plain  and 
simple  :  the  other  full  of  perplexed  and  intricate  mazes.  This  is 
mild,  that  harsh.  This  is  found  by  experience  effectual  for  its  pur- 
poses :  the  other  is  a  new  project.  This  is  universal  :  the  other 
calculated  for  certain  colonies  only.  This  is  immediate  in  its  con- 
ciliatory operation  :  the  other  remote,  contingent,  full  of  hazard. 
Mine  is  what  becomes  the  dignity  of  a  ruling  people,  —  gratuitous, 
unconditional,  and  not  held  out  as  a  matter  of  bargain  and  sale. 

Burke. 

11.  What  Virgil  wrote  in  the  vigor  of  his  age,  in  plenty  and 
at  ease.  I  have  undertaken  to  translate  in  my  declining  years;  strag- 
gling with  wants,  oppressed  with  sickness,  curbed  in  my  genius, 
liable  to  be  misconstrued  in  all  I  write;  and  my  judges,  if  they 
are  not  very  eguitable,  already  prejudiced  againsl  me  bythe  lying 
character  which  has  been  given  them  of  my  morals.  —  Drypen. 

It  should  be  observed  that,  as  antithesis  i\<u^  aot  require 
parallelism  in  arrangement,  so  parallelism  does  not  imply 
antithesis. 


th 


332  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

BALANCED   SENTENCES 

Balance  is  of  the  same  nature  as  antithesis,  except  that  it 
does  not  necessarily  imply  a  comparison  or  contrast.  Two 
phrases  or  clauses  are  balanced  when  they  have  a  similar 
form,  are  of  about  the  same  length,  and  bear  about  the 
same  weight  of  emphasis.    Thus,  — 

"T^t  is  good  also  not  to  try  experiments  in  states,  except  the 
necessity  be  urgent,  or  the  utility  evident  ;  and  well  to  beware 
that  it  be  the  reformation  that  draweth  on  the  change,  and  not 
the  desire  of  change  that  pretendeth  the  reformation.  —  Bacon. 

Here,  in  the  first  clause,  the  necessity  be  urgent  is  balanced 
by  the  utility  evident ;  in  the  second  clause,  the  reforma- 
tion that  draweth  on  the  change  is  balanced  by  the  desire 
of  change  that  'pretendeth  the  reformation ;  and  the  whole 
of  the  second  clause  balances  the  whole  of  the  first.  The 
ideas  are  thus  reinforced  and  their  relations  emphasized 
by  the  sound  of  the  sentence.  At  the  same  time,  it  may 
be  noted,  the  two  parts  of  the  second  clause  are  in 
antithesis. 

Other  examples  of  balance  are  the  following :  — 

1.  Every  one  must,  in  the  walks  of  life,  have  met  with  men  of 
whom  all  speak  with  censure,  though  they  are  not  chargeable  with 
any  crime,  and  whom  none  can  be  persuaded  to  love,  though  a 
reason  can  scarcely  be  assigned  why  they  should  be  hated. 

Johnson. 

2.  Next  to  seeing  you  is  the  pleasure  of  seeing  your  hand- 
writing; next  to  hearing  you  is  the  pleasure  of  hearing  from  you. 

Gray. 

3.  Such  a  question  might  perhaps  discompose  -the  gravity  of 
his  muscles,  but  I  believe  it  would  little  affect  the  tranquillity 
of  his  conscience.  —  Junius. 

4.  We  do  not  think  it  has  any  great  value  as  a  history ;  nor  is 
it  very  admirable  as  a  piece  of  composition.  It  comprehends  too 
short  a  period,  and  includes  too  few  events,  to  add  much  to  our 


BALANCED  SENTENCES  333 

knowledge  of  facts,  and  abounds  too  little  with  splendid  passages 
to  lay  much  hold  on  the  imagination.  —  Jeffrey. 

5.  There  is  the  same  difference  betwixt  farce  and  comedy  as 
betwixt  an  empiric  and  a  true  physician:  both  of  them  may 
attain  their  ends;  but  what  one  performs  by  hazard,  the  other 
does  by  skill.  —  Dkydex. 

6.  To  conclude,  my  lords,  if  the  ministers  thus  persevere  in 
misadvising  and  misleading  the  king,  I  will  not  say  that  they  can 
alienate  the  affections  of  his  subjects  from  his  crown  ;  but  1  will 
affirm  that  they  will  make  the  crown  not  worth  his  wearing :  I 
will  not  say  that  the  king  is  betrayed;  but  I  will  pronounce  that 
the  kingdom  is  undone.  —  Chatham. 

7.  It  is  not  common  to  meet  with  a  writer  who  can  make  you 
smile,  and  yet  at  nobody's  expense  ;  who  is  always  entertaining, 
and  yet  always  harmless;  and  who,  though  always  elegant,  and 
classical  to  a  degree  not  always  found  even  in  the  classics  them- 
selves, charms  more  by  the  simplicity  and  playfulness  of  his  ideas 
than  by  the  neatness  and  purity  of  his  verse. —  Cowper. 

Balance  lends  dignity  to  style  and  antithesis  lends  point. 
Both  are  therefore  common  in  serious  essays  and  in  ora- 
tions (see  p.  365),  as  well  as  in  poetry.  Their  excessive 
use,  however,  results  hi  a  formal  and  stilted  diction. 

Balance  must  occur,  to  an  appreciable  degree,  in  any 
writing  that  is  not  utterly  formless;  for  it  corresponds  to 
natural  movements  of  thought  and  feeling,  and  therefore 
plays  an  important  part  in  the  natural,  irregular  rhythm 
of  prose.  When  it  is  unobtrusive,  and — as  it  were  — 
unconscious,  the  effect  is  almost  always  agreeable.  Exact 
and  studied  balance,  however,  should  be  used  with  caution, 
and  only  occasionally.  Otherwise  one's  style  becomes  not 
only  stilted  but  monotonous,  and  the  reader's  attention  is 
dulled  instead  of  being  stimulated.  Only  in  writing  of  a 
formal  and  stately  character  (such  as  a  brief  address  of 
ceremony)  is  it  allowable  to  make  rhetorical  balance 
a  governing  principle  of  composition. 


334  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

In  the  Book  of  Job  and  the  Psalms  balanced  clauses 
and  sentences  are  the  rule,  since  this  method  of  structure 
was  characteristic  of  Hebrew  poetry.  The  rhythmic  effect 
of  constant  balance  may  therefore  be  studied  to  the  best 
advantage  in  those  books  of  the  Bible.    For  example  :  — 

For  it  was  not  an  enemy  that  reproached  me  ;  then  I  could  have 
borne  it :  neither  was  it  he  that  hated  me  that  did  magnify  him- 
self against  me ;  then  I  would  have  hid  myself  from  him. 

Psalm  lv.   12. 

Behold,  thou  hast  instructed  many,  and  thou  hast  strengthened 
the  weak  hands. 

Thy  words  have  upholden  him  that  was  falling,  and  thou  hast 
strengthened  the  feeble  knees. 

But  now  it  is  come  upon  thee,  and  thou  faintest ;  it  toucheth 
thee,  and  thou  art  troubled. — Job,  iv.  3-5. 

These  extracts  are  specimens  of  the  most  majestic  prose 
which  our  language  affords,  but  they  are,  for  obvious  rea- 
sons, not  models  for  imitation  hi  ordinary  modern  writing. 

CLIMAX 

Climax  is  a  method  of  construction  by  which  words, 
phrases,  clauses,  or  sentences  are  arranged  in  the  order 
of  their  importance  or  emphasis,  the  most  important  or 
emphatic  coming  last.  Thus,  in  Bacon's  famous  sentence, 
"Some  books  are  to  be  tasted,  others  to  be  swallowed, 
and  some  few  to  be  chewed  and  digested,"  the  second 
kind  of  books  is  clearly  more  important  than  the  first, 
and  the  third  is  strongly  emphasized  by  being  mentioned 
after  the  other  two. 

A  climax  should  proceed  in  a  regular  ascending  series ; 
there  must  be  no  falling  off  in  the  emphasis  at  any  point. 
If  Bacon's  sentence  is  so  transposed  as  to  read,  "  A  few 
books  are  to  be  chewed  and  digested,  some  to  be  tasted, 


CLIMAX  335 

others  to   be  swallowed,"  the  point  will  be  obscured  or 
lost  altogether.    In  general,  at  least  three  words  or  clauses 
are  necessary  to  produce  a  climax. 
Examples  of  climax  follow  :  — 

1.  Horses  did  neigh,  and  dying  men  did  groan. 

And  ghosts  did  shriek  and  squeal  about  the  streets. 

Shakspere. 

2.  Say  I  feared  C»sar,  honored  him,  and  loved  him. 

Shakspere. 

3.  Thy  palate  then  did  deign 
The  roughest  berry  on  the  rudest  hedge; 

Yea,  like  the  stag  when  snow  the  pasture  sheets, 
The  barks  of  trees  thou  browsed'st ;  on  the  Alps, 
It  is  reported,  thou  didst  eat  strange  flesh, 
Which  some  did  die  to  look  on.  —  Shakspere. 

4.  The  steed  is  vanished  from  the  stall ; 
No  serf  is  seen  in  Hassan's  hall ; 
The  lonely  spider's  thin  gray  pall 

Waves  slowly  widening  o'er  the  wall.  —  Byron. 

5.  He  is  invited  to  Edinburgh  ;  hastens  thither  with  antici- 
pating heart ;  is  welcomed  as  in  a  triumph,  and  with  universal 
blandishment  and  acclamation.  — Carlyle. 

6.  The  hired  laborer  of  yesterday  labors  on  his  own  account 
to-day,  and  will  hire  others  to  labor  for  him  to-morrow.  —  Lincoln. 

7.  As  you  became  minister  by  accident,  were  adopted  without 
choice,  trusted  without  confidence,  and  continued  without  favor, 
be  assured  that,  whenever  an  occasion  presses,  you  will  be  dis- 
carded without  even  the  form  of  regret,  —  Junius. 

For  paragraphs  constructed  on  the  principle  of  the 
climax  see  page  296. 

The,  method  of  the  climax  may  also  govern  the  struc- 
ture of  a  whole  composition,  as  we  have  already  learned 
in  the  case  of  stories. 

An  arrangement  in  which  the  Least  important  member 
of  a  series  comes  last  is  called  an  anticlimax,  --that  is,  a 


336  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

"  climax  reversed."  It  is  a  common  rhetorical  fault,  but 
may  be  utilized  occasionally  to  produce  a  comic  or  satir- 
ical effect.    Thus, — 

The  very  knocker  filled  his  soul  with  dread, 

As  if  it  had  a  living  lion's  mouth, 
With  teeth  so  terrible,  and  tongue  so  red, 
In  which  he  had  engaged  to  put  his  head. 

The  bell-pull  turned  his  courage  into  vapor, 
As  though  't  would  cause  a  shower-bath  to  shed 

Its  thousand  shocks,  to  make  him  sigh  and  caper, — 

He  looked  askance,  and  did  not  like  the  semper.  —  Hood. 

In  the  following  example,  climax  is  humorously  fol- 
lowed by  anticlimax :  — 

I  was  yesterday  invited  by  a  gentleman  to  dinner,  who  prom- 
ised that  our  entertainment  should  consist  of  a  haunch  of  venison, 
a  turtle,  and  a  great  man.  I  came  according  to  appointment. 
The  venison  was  fine,  the  turtle  good,  but  the  great  man  was 
insupportable.  —  Goldsmith. 


PARALLEL  STRUCTURE 

We  have  already  seen  that  parallel  structure  is  an  im- 
portant element  in  the  balanced  sentence  and  that  it  adds 
point  to  antithesis.  Climax  may  likewise  involve  this 
structure  (see  the  sentences  on  page  335). 

Parallel  structure  in  a  number  of  successive  sentences 
is  useful  when  several  facts  are  to  be  stated  which  all 
make  to  the  same  end  or  effect.  Newman's  "  Definition 
of  a  Gentleman  "  (pp.  399-400)  affords  numerous  examples. 
Compare  also  the  following  passages  :  — 

In  that  spot,  then  very  secluded,  [Sir  William]  Temple  passed 
the  remainder  of  his  life.  The  air  agreed  with  him.  The  soil 
was   fruitful,   and  well  suited  to   an  experimental   farmer   and 


PARALLEL   STRUCTURE  337 

gardener.  The  grounds  were  laid  out  with  the  angular  regularity 
which  Sir  William  had  admired  in  the  ilower  beds  of  Haarlem 
and  the  Hague.  —  Macahlay. 

Sir,  during  that  state  of  things,  Parliament  was  not  idle.  They 
attempted  to  subdue  the  fierce  spirit  of  the  Welsh  by  all  sorts  of 
rigorous  laws.  They  prohibited  by  statute  the  sending  all  sorts  of 
arms  into  Wales,  as  you  prohibit  by  proclamation  (with  some- 
thing more  of  doubt  on  the  legality)  the  sending  arms  to  America. 
They  disarmed  the  Welsh  by  statute,  as  you  attempted  (but  still 
with  more  question  on  the  legality)  to  disarm  New  England  by 
an  instruction.  They  made  an  act  to  drag  offenders  from  Walts 
into  England  for  trial,  as  you  have  done  (but  with  more  hard- 
ship) with  regard  to  America.  .  .  .  They  made  acts  to  restrain 
trade,  as  you  do ;  and  they  prevented  the  Welsh  from  the  use  of 
fairs  and  markets,  as  you  do  the  Americans  from  fisheries  and 
foreign  ports.  In  short,  when  the  statute-book  was  not  quite  so 
much  swelled  as  it  is  now,  you  find  no  less  than  fifteen  acts  of 
penal  regulation  on  the  subject  of  Wales.  —  Burke. 

If  the  parallel  structure  is  too  long  continued,  or  if  it 
is  employed  when  the  several  facts  are  not  strictly  par- 
allel in  meaning,  it  produces  an  effect  of  monotony  and 
poverty  of  thought.  When  properly  used,  it  enhances  not 
only  perspicuity,  hut  also  expressiveness  of  style. 

It  is  to  be  noted  that  antithesis,  balance,  climax,  and 
parallel  structure  are  not  mutually  exclusive  terms.  They 
may  all  apply  to  the  same  passage,  and  it  is  therefore 
unwise  to  insist  on  hair-splitting  distinctions.  Antithesis 
is  abundantly  exemplified  in  Bacon's  "Essays"  and  John- 
son's "Lives  of  the  Poets"  (see  especially  the  famous 
parallel  between  Dryden  and  Pope  at  the  end  of  the 
"  Life  of  Pope").  Macaulay  is  fond  of  parallel  structure 
and  climax.  Stevenson's  writings  are  characterized  by 
constant  use  of  subtle  balance.  Style  grows  more  formal 
as  these  qualities  become  more  obviously  frequent. 


338  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

KHETORICAL  QUESTIONS 

Not  all  questions  are  asked  for  the  sake  of  getting 
information.  Often  the  speaker  or  writer  does  not  expect 
or  wish  to  be  answered,  but  puts  what  he  has  to  say  into 
the  form  of  an  inquiry  merely  to  make  it  more  emphatic, 
as  a  kind  of  challenge.    Thus,  — 

Who  would  not  love  his  country  ?  [Practically  equivalent  to, 
There  is  no  one  who  would  not  love  his  country.] 

What  is  so  base  as  avarice  ?  [Equivalent  to,  Nothing  is  so  base 
as  avarice.] 

What  shall  we  do  ?    [Equivalent  to,  We  can  do  nothing.] 

Who  can  tell  ?    [Equivalent  to,  Nobody  can  tell.] 

English  knows  no  difference  in  form  between  such  ques- 
tions as  these  (called  rhetorical  questions)  and  questions 
which  really  ask  for  information. 

Examples  of  rhetorical  questions  are  the  following :  — 

1.  Art  thou  afeard 
To  be  the  same  in  thine  own  act  and  valor 

As  thou  art  in  desire  ?    Wouldst  thou  have  that 
Which  thou  esteem'st  the  ornament  of  life, 
And  live  a  coward  in  thine  own  esteem, 
Letting  "  I  dare  not  "  wait  upon  "  I  would," 
Like  the  poor  cat  i'  the  adage? —  Shakspere. 

2.  But  the  colonies  will  go  further.  Alas  !  alas  !  when  will 
this  speculating  against  fact  and  reason  end  ?  What  will  quiet 
these  panic  fears  wdiich  we  entertain  of  the  hostile  effect  of  a  con- 
ciliatory conduct?  —  Burke. 

3.  Is  it  true  that  no  case  can  exist  in  which  it  is  proper  for  the 
sovereign  to  accede  to  the  desires  of  his  discontented  subjects? 
Is  there  anything  peculiar  in  this  case  to  make  a  rule  for  itself? 
Is  all  authority  of  course  lost,  when  it  is  not  pushed  to  the  ex- 
treme ?  Is  it  a  certain  maxim  that  the  fewer  causes  of  dissatis- 
faction are  left  by  government,  the  more  the  subject  will  be 
inclined  to  resist  and  rebel  ?  —  Burke. 


RHETORICAL  QUESTIONS  339 

4.  Why  should  there  not  be  a  patient  confidence  in  the  ulti- 
mate justice  of  the  people?  Is  then-  any  better  or  equal  hope  in 
the  world  ?  —  Lincoln. 

5.  Would  it  have  been  quite  amiable  in  me,  sir,  to  interrupt 
this  excellent  good  feeling?  Must  I  not  have  been  absolutely 
malicious,  if  I  could  have  thrust  myself  forward  to  destroy  sensa- 
tions thus  pleasing?  —  Webster. 

Sometimes  a  writer  or  speaker  emphasizes  an  assertion 
by  means  of  a  series  of  direct  questions  which  lead  up  to 
it,  as  in  the  following  paragraph  from  Burke's  "Concilia- 
tion with  America  "  :  — 

What  did  Parliament  with  this  audacious  address?  Reject  it 
as  a  libel?  Treat  it  as  an  affront  to  government?  Spurn  it  as  a 
derogation  from  the  rights  of  legislature?  Did  they  toss  it  over 
the  table  ?  Did  they  burn  it  by  the  hands  of  the  common  hang- 
man? They  took  the  petition  of  grievance,  all  rugged  as  it  was, 
without  softening  or  temperament,  unpurged  of  the  original  bit- 
terness and  indignation  of  complaint  ;  they  made  it  the  very  pre- 
amble to  their  act  of  redress  and  consecrated  its  principle  to  all 
ages  in  the  sanctuary  of  legislation. 

Here  the  point  which  Burke  wishes  to  make  is  that  Par- 
liament accepted  the  principles  laid  down  in  a  certain 
address  and  enacted  them  as  law.  He  might  simply  have 
stuted  this  as  a  fact.  Instead,  he  brings  it  in  as  the  answer 
to  a  series  of  impassioned  questions,  (.litis  rendering  his 
final  assertion  vastly  more  impressive. 

The  effectiveness  of  rhetorical  questions  in  argument 
comes  from  their  dramatic  quality.  They  suggest  dialogue, 
e  pecially  when  the  speaker  both  asks  ami  answers  them 
himself,  as  if  he  were  playing  two  parts  <>n  the  stage. 
Tliey  an;  not  always  impassioned;  they  may  be  mildly 
ironical  or  merely  argumentative:  but  they  are  always  to 
some  extent  dramatic,  and.  if  used  to  excess,  the}  tend  to 
give  one's  style  a  theatrical  air. 


340  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

PUNCTUATION 

Punctuation  is  a  device  for  indicating  to  the  eye  the 
pauses  and  the  modulations  of  the  voice  which  do  so  much 
to  make  spoken  language  intelligible  and  expressive.1  It 
is  an  imperfect  device,  to  be  sure,  for  no  system  of  "  points" 
can  represent  the  infinite  variety  of  these  phenomena ;  but, 
such  as  it  is,  it  assists  the  reader  considerably  and  must 
therefore  be  carefully  attended  to.  See  if  you  can  make 
sense  out  of  the  following  passage  :  — 

Thought  and  speech  are  inseparable  from  each  other  matter 
and  expression  are  parts  of  one  style  is  a  thinking  out  into  lan- 
guage this  is  what  I  have  been  laying  down  and  this  is  literature 
not  things  not  the  verbal  symbols  of  things  not  on  the  other  hand 
mere  words  but  thoughts  expressed  in  language. 

Now  read  the  same  passage,  properly  punctuated,  as  it 
came  from  the  hand  of  the  author  (Newman),  and  you 
will  appreciate  the  usefulness  of  punctuation. 

Thought  and  speech  are  inseparable  from  each  other.  Matter 
and  expression  are  parts  of  one  :  style  is  a  thinking  out  into  lan- 
guage. This  is  what  I  have  been  laying  down,  and  this  is  litera- 
ture;  not  things,  not  the  verbal  symbols  of  things;  not,  on  the 
other  hand,  mere  words  ;  but  thoughts  expressed  in  language. 

Punctuation,  we  observe,  indicates  the  natural  grouping 
of  the  words  into  phrases,  clauses,  and  sentences,  and  this 
grouping  is  an  essential  part  of  the  expression  of  thought. 

The  most  important  mark  of  punctuation  is  the  period, 
since  we  need  particularly  to  know  where  a  sentence  ends. 
Yet,  as  the  passage  from  Newman  shows,  the  colon  and 
the  semicolon  are  of  great  utility  in  marking  the  natural 
divisions  of  the  thought  within  the  limits  of  a  single  sen- 
tence. The  semicolon,  indeed,  is  often  cpiite  as  effective 
as  a  conjunction. 

1  For  the  rules  of  punctuation,  see  Appendix. 


EXERCISES  IN  SENTENCES  341 

In    the    following  sentence  from   Stevenson  the   first 

two  semicolons  make  conjunctions  between  the  clauses 
unnecessary :  — 

I  had  all  my  first  pains  ;  my  throat  was  so  sore  I  could  scarce 
swallow  ;  I  had  a  fit  of  strong  shuddering,  which  clucked  my 
teeth  together  ;  and  there  came  on  me  that  dreadful  sense  of 
illness  for  which  we  have  no  name  either  in  Scotch  or  English. 

We  should  form  the  habit  of  punctuating  our  sentences 
as  we  write,  in  order  to  make  them  more  easily  intelligible. 
If  we  try  to  imagine  how  each  sentence  would  sound  if 
we  were  speaking,  we  shall  do  this  almost  unconsciously. 
We  must  bear  in  mind,  however,  that  pauses  in  speech 
and  marks  of  punctuation  do  not  correspond  exactly.  Not 
every  pause  in  speech  demands  a  point  in  writing,  and 
points  are  sometimes  required  (as  in  "  No,  sir ")  when 
there  is  no  pause. 


;i 


EXERCISES   IN   SENTENCES 


1.  See  in  how  many  ways  you  can  change  Franklin's  sentences 
on  pages  12-13  without  materially  affecting  the  sense. 

2.  State  in  simple  sentences  all  that  Franklin  has  told  in  the 
first  paragraph  on  page  12.  See  how  many  such  sentences  can  be 
made  from  the  paragraph. 

3.  Combine  in  any  way  that  pleases  you  the  sentences  that 
you  have  made  in  Exercise  2,  attempting  at,  the  same  time  to  tell 
Franklin's  story.  Point  out  the  advantages  of  this  construction 
over  that  in  Exercise  2. 

4.  Study  the  second  paragraph  of  "The  Battle  of  Bannock- 
burn"  (p.  22).    Treat  the  paragraph  as  in  Exercises  1,  2,  and  3. 

i  The  selections  on  pp.  .'S91-400  may  be  utilized  for  exercises.  For  other 
exercises,  see  pp.  4.'M-4:W.    For  phrases  ami  clauses,  see  Appendix. 


342  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

5.  Study  the  first  two  paragraphs  of  the  anecdote  on  page  38. 
Rewrite  the  paragraphs,  using  simple  sentences.  Then  note  what 
is  lost  in  the  rearrangement. 

6.  Select  an  interesting  item  of  perhaps  ten  lines  from  a  news- 
paper or  magazine.  Enumerate  in  simple  sentences  the  facts 
which  are  stated  or  suggested  in  the  paragraph.  Read  your  list 
to  the  class,  asking  the  other  students  to  write  the  paragraph  from 
your  enumeration.  Compare  the  paragraphs  which  they  write, 
and  see  how  many  of  these  have  really  expressed  the  fact  stated 
in  the  original. 

II 

Unite  in  a  single  sentence  all  the  items  in  each  of  the  exer- 
cises below. 

1.  The  Provincial  Congress  was  at  Concord.  The  Continental 
Congress  was  at  Philadelphia.  The  Provincial  Congress  sent  a 
message  to  the  Continental  Congress.  It  asked  the  Continental 
Congress  to  make  the  army  a  continental  army.  It  asked  the 
Continental  Congress  to  appoint  a  commander-in-chief. 

2.  A  brave  people  lived  a  long  time  ago.  These  people  were 
called  Romans.  They  were  warlike.  They  lived  more  than 
eighteen  hundred  years  ago.  They  undertook  to  conquer  the 
whole  world.  They  undertook  to  subdue  all  countries.  Their  pur- 
pose was  to  make  their  own  city  of  Rome  the  head  of  all  nations. 
They  wished  to  conquer  all  nations  upon  the  face  of  the  earth. 

3.  A  song  was  sung  by  the  choir.  It  was  sung  for  the  occa- 
sion. It  was  sung  with  perfect  harmony.  It  was  sung  with 
unity.  It  was  so  sung  that  it  seemed  like  some  glorious  instru- 
ment touched  by  a  single  hand. 

4.  The  greater  part  of  Frankfort  is  built  in  the  old  German 
style.  Some  houses  are  six  stories  high.  Some  houses  are  seven 
stories  high.  Every  story  projects  over  that  below  it.  Those  who 
live  in  the  attics  can  nearly  shake  hands  out  of  the  windows. 

5.  Investigation  of  the  earth's  crust  teaches  us.  It  shows  us 
that  a  chain  stretches  down  from  the  first  plants  to  those  of  to-day. 
It  shows  us  that  a  chain  stretches  down  from  the  first  animals  to 
those  of  to-day.  This  chain  is  mighty.  Its  links  are  living.  It 
shows  the  order  in  which  the  plants  succeeded  each  other.  It  shows 
the  order  in  which  the  animals  succeeded  each  other. 


EXERCISES  IN  SENTENCES  343 

III 

In  the  following  exercise  you  will  find  fragments  of  sentences, 
—  words,  phrases,  and  clauses.  Put  them  together  in  any  way  that 
you  like,  or  in  as  many  ways  as  you  choose.  In  the  class,  compare 
your  sentences  with  those  made  by  the  other  students  out  of  tin- 
same  material,  and  observe  the  variety  of  thought  and  expression. 

1.  Four  large  frogs  were  sunning  themselves.  They  were  in 
front  of  me.  They  were  near  the  shore.  They  were  in  the 
shallow  water.    They  were  among  the  lily  pads. 

2.  Perseus  looked  up  to  the  heaven  above  his  head.  It  was 
still.  He  looked  down.  The  sand  was  still  beneath  his  feet. 
Above,  there  was  nothing  but  the  blinding  sun.  The  blinding 
sun  was  in  the  blinding  blue.  Around  him  there  was  nothing 
but  the  sand.    The  sand  was  blinding. 

3.  I  had  sown  sweet  peas.  I  had  two  great  patches  of  sweet 
peas.  They  made  me  happy  all  summer.  I  had  sunflowers.  I 
had  hollyhocks,  also.  The  sunflowers  and  hollyhocks  were  under 
the  study  windows.  Madonna  lilies  grew  between  the  hollyhocks 
and  sunflowers.  The  colors  of  the  hollyhocks  turned  out  to  be 
ugly.  My  first  summer  was  decorated  and  beautified  solely  by 
sweet  peas. 

4.  The  coachman  is  seventy  years  old.  His  name  is  Peter. 
He  was  born  on  the  place.  He  has  driven  its  occupants  for  fifty 
years.    We  are  very  fond  of  him. 

5.  Centuries  ago  in  a  valley  a  little  fern  leaf  grew  the 
fern  was  green  and  slender  its  veins  were  delicate  it  waved  in 
the  wind  and  bent  low  tall  rushes  grew  around  it  moss  and 
grass  grew  around  it  sunbeams  came  fanned  the  dew 
fell  on  it  by  night  no  man  ever  saw  it  no  foot  of  man  ever 
came  that  way  then  earth  was  young  then  earth  was  keeping 
holiday. 

IV 

In  the  following  passage  observe  how  one  long  sentence  is  built 
up  on  the  basis  of  a  simple  statement  by  means  of  modifiers.  See 
how  many  simple  sentences  you  can  make  out  of  the  passage. 

The  Saracen  came  on  at  the  speedy  gallop  of  an  Arab  horse- 
man, managing  his  steed  more  by  his  limbs  and  the  inllirtioii  of 


34-1  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

his  body  than  by  any  use  of  the  reins,  which  hung  loose  in  his 
left  hand ;  so  that  he  was  enabled  to  wield  the  light,  round  buckler 
of  the  skin  of  the  rhinoceros,  ornamented  with  silver  loops,  which 
he  wore  on  his  arm,  swinging  it  as  if  he  meant  to  oppose  its  slender 
circle  to  the  formidable  thrust  of  the  Western  lance.  —  Scott. 


1.  Find  twenty  sentences  in  some  book  in  which  variation 
from  the  simplest  order  of  words  indicates  emphasis  (see  pp.  326- 
329).    Make  similar  sentences  of  your  own. 

2.  Change  the  order  of  clauses  in  some  complex  sentence  so  as 
to  vary  the  emphasis  (see  p.  329). * 

3.  Bring  to  the  class  twelve  examples  of  different  kinds  of 
subordinate  clauses.  Show  how  the  statements  in  the  subordinate 
clauses  are  related  to  those  in  the  main  clauses ;  and  explain  the 
force  of  the  subordinating  connective  in  each  sentence. 

4.  Rewrite  the  sentences,  indicating  the  relations  between  the 
clauses  without  the  use  of  subordinating  connectives. 

5.  Make  as  complete  a  list  as  you  can  of  the  different  ways  in 
which  a  clause  maybe  subordinated,  with  an  example  in  each  case. 

6.  "Write  a  series  of  statements  on  (1)  swimming,  (2)  Wash- 
ington, (3)  your  town,  (4)  automobiles,  (5)  athletics. 

Combine  each  series  into  a  set  of  (1)  compound  sentences  of 
various  forms,  and  (2)  complex  sentences  of  various  forms.  Study 
the  difference  in  emphasis,  coherence,  and  general  effectiveness. 

7.  Rewrite  the  sentences  on  your  town  (Exercise  6)  into  a 
series  consisting  chiefly  of  complex  sentences,  in  which  the  main 
clauses  shall  contain  the  statements  which  concern  the  town. 
Write  a  second  series  in  which  the  main  clauses  shall  contain 
chiefly  the  statements  that  concern  the  inhabitants. 

Compare  the  effect  of  the  two  sets  of  sentences. 

iFor  exercises  in  Antithesis  (pp.  330-332),  Balance  (pp.  332-334), 
Climax  (pp.  334-336),  Parallel  Structure  (336-337),  Rhetorical  Questions 
(pp.  338-339),  and  Figures  of  Speech  (pp.  370-382),  the  examples  given  in 
the  places  referred  to  will  serve  as  material.  The  student  should  find  sim- 
ilar specimens  in  his  reading. 


CHAPTER  III 

WORDS 
CHOICE  OF  WORDS 

When  all  is  said  and  done,  it  is  the  choice  and  use  of 
words  that  determines  whether  or  not  we  succeed  in 
expressing  our  thoughts  and  feelings  clearly  and  ade- 
quately. Good  paragraphing  makes  our  writing  easy  to 
follow,  and  variety  of  sentences  is  indispensable  when  we 
get  beyond  the  very  simplest  ideas ;  but,  unless  we  choose 
our  words  skilfully  and  use  them  accurately,  we  cannot 
explain  any  subject,  no  matter  how  well  we  understand 
it,  nor  can  we  convey  to  our  readers  our  impressions  about 
what  interests  us,  however  vivid  they  may  be  in  our  own 
minds.  For  composition,  in  the  last  analysis,  is  a  matter 
of  words. 

In  itself,  however,  a  word  is  merely  a  conventional  group 
of  sounds,  and  in  writing  it  is  symbolized  by  a  conven- 
tional group  of  peculiarly  shaped  marks.  There  is  no 
essential  connection,  in  the  nature  of  things,  between  the 
word  and  the  object  which  it  signifies ;  horse  is  no  better 
name  for  the  animal  in  question  than  the  Latin  equus,  the 
French  cheval,  the  German  Pferd,  or  the  Spanish  caballo. 
It  is  only  the  general  agreement  of  those  who  speak  and 
write  the  language  that  gives  to  the  particular  combina- 
tion of  sounds  its  definite  meaning,  or  to  the  particular 
combination  .,f  marks  its  power  to  represent  the  sounds. 
If,  therefore,  we  are  to  use  words  in  such  a  way  as  will 

345 


346  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

convey  to  other  people  our  own  thoughts  and  feelings,  we 
must  conform  to  that  general  usage  which  settles  the  force 
and  meaning  of  every  word  in  the  language. 

THE   STANDARD   OF   USAGE 

Usage  governs  language.  There  is  no  other  standard.  By 
usage,  however,  is  meant  the  practice  of  the  best  writers  and 
speakers,  not  merely  the  habits  of  the  community  in  which 
we  chance  to  live. 

This  requirement  of  conformity  to  good  usage  is  not  an 
arbitrary  law,  imposed  upon  us  by  some  power  from 
without.  "We  speak  and  write  in  order  to  be  understood ; 
and  it  is  only  common  sense  to  employ  such  words  as  are 
in  general  use,  and  to  employ  them  in  the  meanings  that 
are  habitually  assigned  to  them  by  educated  persons.  If 
we  neglect  this  principle,  we  may  defeat  our  purpose  in 
writing ;  for  only  by  following  it  can  we  make  sure  that 
the  reader  will  gather  from  our  words  the  thoughts  that 
we  intend  them  to  convey. 

Moreover,  disregard  of  good  usage  will  expose  us  to  the 
suspicion  of  illiteracy.  To  speak  and  write  correctly  is  the 
most  generally  recognized  test  of  education.  No  matter 
how  cultivated  a  man  is,  if  lie  expresses  himself  in  a  way 
that  most  people  regard  as  slovenly  and  inaccurate,  he 
will  be  set  down  as  deficient  in  elementary  knowledge; 
and  this  judgment  will  be  passed  upon  him  not  only  by 
all  educated  people,  but  by  others  as  well.  As  in  conduct, 
so  in  language,  many  persons  who  are  careless  themselves, 
are  quick  to  detect  and  condemn  the  slips  of  their 
friends  and  associates. 

Finally,  English  is  what  is  called  a  literary  language,  — 
that  is,  it  has  been  used  for  centuries  in  the  expression  of 


MODERN    USAGE  347 

thought  by  a  long  line  of  writers  of  genius  ami  culture. 
This  great  body  of  literature,  together  with  the  Language 
in  which  it  is  expressed,  is  our  inheritance,  and,  like  every 
inheritance,  it  imposes  a  duty  as  well  as  confers  a  privilege. 
It  is  not  merely  our  language  that  we  speak  :  it  is  the 
language  of  Shakspere  and  Milton  and  Burke  and  Webster. 
A  Ye  may  use  it  freely,  for  it  is  our  own ;  but  we  should 
not  use  it  unworthily. 

MODERN  USAGE 

Language  is  constantly  changing.  Yet  it  changes  so 
gradually  that  it  may  be  regarded  as  fixed  for  the  lifetime 
of  any  one  writer.  The  usage  to  which  we  must  conform, 
therefore,  is  that  of  our  own  time.  We  cannot  justify  a 
violation  of  modern  usage  by  quoting  Shakspere,  any  more 
than  Shakspere,  if  he  had  infringed  on  the  usage  of  his 
day,  could  have  defended  himself  by  quoting  Chaucer. 
Plainly,  therefore,  our  standard  of  expression  must  be  tin- 
practice  of  good  writers  and  speakers  of  the  present  day. 

One  further  caution  is  necessary.  No  writer,  however 
eminent,  is  free  from  faults.  "Even  Homer,"  says  the 
proverb,  "is  now  and  then  caught  napping."  Besides,  a 
great  author  may  take  liberties  with  his  mother  tongue 
which  we  cannot  venture  to  imitate.  The  mere  fact  that 
a  word  or  a  meaning  occurs  in  one  or  two  good  waiters  is 
not  enough  to  justify  us  in  adopting  it.  The  usage  which 
we  follow  should  be  general,  not  peculiar. 

For  convenience,  we  may  sum  up  our  practical  standard 
of  linguistic  correctness  in  a  single  sentence:  Good  use  is 
the  general  practice  of  reputable  writers  of  the  present  day. 

There  are,  of  course,  varieties  of  usage,  even  among 
good  authors,  so  that  it  is  not  always  possible  to  pronounce 


348  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

one  of  two  words  or  meanings  correct  and  the  other  incor- 
rect. In  some  cases,  too,  there  is  room  for  a  difference  of 
opinion  as  to  the  admissibility  of  a  particular  expression. 
But  in  a  language  like  English,  which  has  been  written 
and  studied  for  so  many  centuries,  all  the  main  facts  and 
principles  are  settled.  Disputes  about  this  or  that  detail 
do  not  affect  the  general  uniformity  of  the  standard.1 

In  cases  of  doubt,  the  wise  course  for  the  young  writer 
is  plain :  he  will  naturally  prefer,  in  language,  as  in  man- 
ners or  morals,  to  be  on  the  safe  side.  If,  as  he  gains 
experience,  he  discovers  that  he  has  imposed  unreasonable 
restrictions  on  his  liberty  of  choice,  he  can  easily  revise 
his  standards  in  the  direction  of  greater  freedom.  It  is 
harder  to  reform  bad  habits  than  to  improve  good  ones. 

The  facts  of  good  usage  are  to  be  learned  only  from 
an  extensive  and  intimate  acquaintance  with  literature. 
Grammars,  dictionaries,  and  rhetorics  do  not  establish  the 
standard;  they  are  authoritative  in  so  far  only  as  they 
correctly  record  the  results  of  a  study  of  the  best  writers. 
Since,  however,  the  English  language  has  been  critically 
investigated  for  many  years,  there  are  comparatively  few 
questions  of  usage  as  to  which  there  is  serious  doubt. 
Still,  dubious  points  exist,  and,  in  such  cases,  the  oral  tes- 
timony of  a  man  of  learning  may  be  of  more  value,  in  a 
matter  of  detail  to  which  he  has  given  special  attention, 
than  the  printed  statement  of  many  grammars  and  rheto- 
rics. The  student  must  of  course  depend  for  the  most  part 
on  his  text-books  and  on  works  of  reference  ;  but  he  should 
remember  that  a  person  who  is  not  an  authority  does  not 
become  so  by  printing  his  opinions  in  a  book. 

i  Compare  what  is  said  of  grammatical  principles  in  "  The  Motber 
Tongue,"  Book  II,  p.  xvi. 


POETICAL   LANGUAGE  349 


WORDS  NOT  IN  GOOD    USE 

Every  language  contains  a  large  stock  of  words  that  are 
not  in  good  prose  use.1  Among  these  may  be  mentioned 
archaisms  (or  obsolete  words),  pompous  (or  big)  words 
which  have  never  become  current,  foreign  words  not  yet 
naturalized,  technical  terms  appropriate  only  in  special 
treatises,  colloquialisms  improper  in  serious  writing,  provin- 
cialisms or  dialect  words,  and  slang. 

Archaisms  are  common  in  poetry,  and  the  same  is  true 
of  many  other  words  that  would  be  pompous  or  affected 
in  prose.  Colloquialisms  are  proper  enough  in  ordinary 
conversation  (see  p.  352)  and  technical  words  in  technical 
writing  (see  p.  358).  Foreign  words,  provincialisms,  and 
slang  recpuire  particular  discussion. 

POETICAL  LANGUAGE 

The  language  of  poetry  differs  greatly  from  that  of  prose. 
In  particular,  it  makes  use  of  archaic  (that  is,  old)  forms, 
words,  and  phrases,  and  it  abounds  in  unusual  terms  and 
in  figures  of  speech.  It  is  also  freer  than  prose  in  changing 
the  usual  order  of  words,  whether  for  emphasis  or  for  some 
special  poetic  effect. 

The  following  passage  from  Tennyson's  "  Gareth  and 
Lynette"  illustrates  the  archaism  of  poetical  style:  — 

For  so  the  queen  believed  that  -when  her  son 
Beheld  his  only  way  to  glory  lead 
Low  down  through  villain  kitchen-vassalage, 
Her  own  true  Gareth  was  too  princely-proud 
To  pass  thereby;  so  should  he  rest  with  her, 
Closed  in  her  castle  from  the  sound  of  arms. 

1  That  is,  in  good  use  as  ■!» - 1  i 1 1 « -« I  en  p.  -17. 


350  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Silent  awhile  was  Gareth,  then  replied  : 
"  The  thrall  in  person  may  be  free  in  soul, 
And  I  shall  see  the  jousts.    Thy  son  am  I, 
And  since  thou  art  my  mother,  must  obey. 
I  therefore  yield  me  freely  to  thy  will ; 
For  hence  will  I,  disguised,  and  hire  myself 
To  serve  with  scullions  and  with  kitchen-knaves  ; 
Nor  tell  my  name  to  any —  no,  not  the  king." 

In  this  passage  of  simple  narrative  verse,  villain  is  used 
in  the  sense  of  "  low  "  or  "  lowborn,"  and  knave  in  the  sense 
of  "  servant."    Thrall  is  an  old  word  for  "  serf." 

In  the  following  passages  from  the  same  poem  Tennyson 
illustrates  the  free  use  winch  poetry  makes  of  figurative 
language :  — 

1.  Then  to  the  shore  of  one  of  those  long  loops 
Wherethrough  the  serpent  river  coil'd,  they  came. 
Rough-thicketed  were  the  banks  and  steep ;  the  stream 
Full,  narrow;  this  a  bridge  of  single  arc 

Took  at  a  leap ;  and  on  the  further  side 
Arose  a  silk  pavilion,  gay  with  gold 
In  streaks  and  rays,  and  all  Lent-lily  in  hue, 
Save  that  the  dome  was  purple,  and  above, 
Crimson,  a  slender  banneret  fluttering. 

2.  And  all  the  three  were  silent  seeing,  pitch'd 
Beside  the  Castle  Perilous  on  flat  field, 

A  huge  pavilion  like  a  mountain  peak 
Sunder  the  glooming  crimson  on  the  marge, 
Black,  with  black  banner,  and  a  long  black  horn 
Beside  it  hanging. 

A  young  writer  should  be  careful  not  to  imitate  the 
peculiarities  of  poetry  in  Ms  prose  compositions.  The 
style  should  be  appropriate  to  the  matter  and  the  occa- 
sion. Excessively  florid  or  "  flowery  "  diction  is  a  common 
fault  of  unpractised  but  ambitious  authors. 


FOREIGN  WORDS  351 


FOREIGN  WORDS 

English  has  borrowed  extensively  from  foreign  lan- 
guages, often  with  no  change  in  the  word.1 

Thus,  for  example,  we  have  from  the  Latin,  cancer,  circus, 
inertia,  stupor,  squalor,  rebus,  innuendo,  errata,  vim,  gladiolus,  simile, 
si '<  i  in  en,  folio,  administrator;  from  the  Greek,  acme,  atlas,  pathos, 
chims,  aster,  crisis,  lexicon,  skeleton,  phlox  ;  from  the  French,  ' 
chandelier,  dame, police,  figure,  nature,  prestige,  grace,  jargon,  glacier, 
role,  mauve;  from  the  Italian,  canto,  dilettante,  lava,  macaroni,  villa, 
piano,  loggia,  piazza,  fiasco  ;  from  the  Spanish,  mosquito,  nigra,  merino, 
canon,  siesta;  from  the  German,  gneiss,  landau,  meerschaum,  zinc. 

All  these  words,  and  countless  others,  though  of  foreign 
origin,  have  become  so  naturalized  that  they  are  as  good 
English  as  if  they  had  been  members  of  our  linguistic  com- 
munity ever  since  the  days  of  King  Alfred.  Hospitality  to 
foreign  words  is  one  of  the  fixed  habits  of  our  language, 
and  new  terms  are  constantly  applying  for  admission. 

Yet  it  is  manifestly  unwise  to  interlard  our  English 
writing  with  words  and  phrases  that  are  still  felt  as  foreign. 
For,  in  the  first  place,  such  terms  may  be  unintelligible  to 
our  readers,  and,  in  the  second  place,  their  extensive  use 
is  an  affectation,  like  putting  on  airs  in  company. 

When  we  are  tempted  to  employ  a  French  or  a  Latin 
word  or  phrase,  that  has  not  yet  become  an  accepted  part 
of  the  English  vocabulary,  we  should  ask  ourselves  if  there 
is  not  some  English,  expression  (native  or  naturalized)  that 
will  answer.  Commonly,  we  shall  find  such  an  expression 
if  we  look  for  it;  but,  if  our  language  furnishes  no  satisfac- 
tory equivalent,  we  may  be  forced  to  use  the  foreign  term. 

A  foreign  word  winch  has  not  yet  been  admitted  into 
the   English  vocabulary  is  sometimes  ealled   a   barbarism. 

i  Except  sometimes  in  pronunciation. 


352  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

The  term  is  convenient,  but  not  very  appropriate.  It  is 
of  little  utility  to  set  up  the  dogma  that  "  barbarisms  are 
bad  English."  Their  continual  use  is  to  be  avoided,  not 
because  they  are  bad  English,  but  because  they  savor  of 
affectation  and  may  not  be  generally  understood. 

COLLOQUIAL  LANGUAGE  AND  SLANG 

The  language  that  we  write  will  always  differ  somewhat 
from  the  language  that  we  speak.  Colloquial  English  (that 
is,  the  language  of  ordinary  conversation)  admits  many 
words,  phrases,  forms,  and  constructions  which  would  be 
out  of  place  in  serious  composition.1 

The  distinction  is  important,  though  frequently  over- 
looked in  estimating  the  correctness  of  a  word  or  phrase. 
Written  language  is  expected  to  be  more  careful  and  exact 
than  spoken  language.  The  requirement  is  only  reasonable. 
When  we  talk,  the  expression  of  our  thoughts  is  aided  by 
gesture,  by  stress  or  emphasis  of  the  voice,  and  by  oral 
inflections  or  modulations ; 2  in  writing,  we  have  none  of 
these  at  our  command.  Moreover,  when  we  converse  with 
anybody,  he  forms  his  opinion  of  us  not  only  from  what 
we  say,  but  also  from  our  appearance,  our  manners,  and 
the  quality  of  our  voices.  He  is  therefore  less  likely  than 
a  reader  to  misjudge  us  or  to  misinterpret  our  words. 
Hence,  though  conversational  language  should  not  be 
slangy  or  slipshod,  it  may  properly  enough  take  liberties 
that  written  composition  must  avoid. 

Slang,  from  its  very  nature,  can  never  be  in  good  use. 
Whenever  a  slang  term  becomes  reputable,  it  ceases  to  be 

1  Compare  "The  Mother  Tongue,"  Book  II,  p.  xxii. 

2  For  some  of  the  means  which  writers  use  to  reproduce  these  effects, 
see  pp.  326-329. 


COLLOQUIAL   LANGUAGE  AND  SLANG         353 

slang.  Mob,  banter,  hoax,  bore  (in  the  sense  of  to  wear)/), 
gerrymander  were  once  slang  terms,  but  have  worked 
their  way  first  into  the  colloquial  vocabulary  and  then 
into  the  language  of  books.  Most  slang,  however,  has  no 
such  good  fortune. 

The  reasons  for  avoiding  slang  are  plain  enough.  In  the 
first  place,  slang  changes  with  great  rapidity,  both  in  its 
words  and  hi  the  meanings  they  bear.  It  is  too  unstable  and 
evanescent  to  serve  the  purposes  of  recording  one's  thoughts. 

Secondly,  the  habitual  use  of  a  slang  word  starves  out 
a  number  of  nicely  discriminated  synonyms.  If  we  call 
everything  that  we  like  great  or  stunning,  —  from  a  good 
dinner  to  a  fine  poem,  —  we  ignore  a  multitude  of  far 
more  expressive  adjectives  which  would  indicate  with 
precision  our  thought  or  feeling  in  a  great  variety  of  cir- 
cumstances. Slang  words  are  seldom  specific;  they  are 
the  lazy  man's  substitute  for  the  mental  exertion  involved 
in  thinking  up  the  terms  that  really  express  his  thought. 
Hence  their  use  tends  to  weaken  our  power  of  discrimina- 
tion and  to  enervate  our  minds. 

Finally,  almost  all  slang  is  vulgar, —  either  in  its  origin 
or  in  its  associations.  Its  habitual  use  is  taken  as  a  sign 
of  low  breeding  or  of  affected  rowdiness.  This  is  in  itself 
a  sufficient  reason  for  avoiding  it. 

Provincialisms  and  dialect  words  should  not  be  confused 
with  slang.  They  are  not  the  idle  and  fantastic  coinages 
of  the  moment,  but,  in  most  cases,,  old  words  or  meanings 
that  have  either  gone  out  of  use,  except  in  a  limited  dis- 
trict, or  have  never  come  into  general  use.  They  differ 
greatly  in  respectability,  some  of  them  being  well  estab- 
lished in  colloquial  speech  while  others  are  seldom  heard 
from  educated  people.  The  reason  for  avoiding  them  is 
that  they  are  not  universally  intelligible. 


354  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

Examples  of  provincial  or  dialect  words  are  the  following :  — 
calaboose,  ruination,  pernickety,  sunup;  guess,  expect,  calculate, 
reckon,  and  allow  in  the  sense  of  think  or  suppose ;  right  smart  ; 
clever  for  good-natured ;  "  tell  him  good-bye  "  for  "  bid  him  good- 
bye "  ;  raised  for  reared  (of  persons)  ;  red  up  for  clear  up  ;  'tarnal 
for  very  great;  ridiculous  for  abominable  or  outrageous  ;  all  over  for 
evt  ryiohere ;  some  place  for  somewhere ;  "  I  am  through  "  for  "  I  have 
finished"  ;  do  be  for  be;  tuckered  for  ftVerf  oh/;  "  some  pretty"  for 
"  somewhat  pretty"  ;  pie  plant  for  rhubarb;  spider  for  frying  pan.1 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE 

Within  the  limits  of  good  usage,  and  in  every  case 
controlled  by  it,  there  are  four  great  principles  which 
should  guide  us  in  the  choice  of  words,  —  correctness, 
precision,  appropriateness,  and  expressiveness. 

Correctness  is  the  most  elementary  of  all  requirements. 
The  meanings  of  words  are  settled  by  usage.  If  we 
use  a  word  incorrectly,  —  that  is,  in  a  sense  which  does 
not  customarily  belong  to  it,  —  our  readers  will  miss  our 
thought,  or,  at  best,  they  must  arrive  at  it  by  inference 
or  guesswork. 

In  the  second  place,  we  must  fit  our  words  as  exactly 
and  precisely  as  possible  to  the  thoughts  which  we  wish 
to  express.  We  may  write  correctly  enough  and  still, 
by  neglecting  precision,  so  blur  or  obscure  our  meaning 
by  vague  or  ambiguous  language  as  to  leave  the  reader 
with  a  very  indistinct  impression  of  the  thought  that  we 
desire  to  convey. 

In  the  third  place,  our  words  must  be  appropriate  to  the 
subject  and  the  occasion.  Otherwise,  no  matter  how  correct 
they  are,  or  how  precisely  we  fit  them  to  our  meaning, 
they  will  fail  to  produce  the  effect  that  we  intend. 

1  For  the  use  of  dialect  in  stories,  see  p.  60. 


GENERAL  PRINCIPLES  OF  CHOICE  355 

Finally,  our  words  must  be  expressive.  They  may  be 
correctly  used,  they  may  set  forth  our  meaning  precisely, 
they  may  be  appropriate  to  the  occasion;  and  yet,  after 
all,  they  may  be  so  dull  and  lifeless  as  to  leave  the 
reader  uninterested  and  unmoved.  If  words  are  really 
to  serve  our  purpose,  they  must  express  the  color  and 
vividness  of  our  feelings  about  the  subject  that  we 
are  treating. 

We  shall  study  these  four  principles  —  correctness,  pre- 
cision, appropriateness,  and  expressiveness  —  in  the  pages 
that  follow.  Meantime,  a  few  concrete  examples  will 
make  their  bearing  evident. 

1.  Correctness. —  A  man's  vocation  is  his  "calling,'*  his  "occu- 
pation" ;  his  avocation,  on  the  contrary,  is  "that  which  calls  him 
away  from  his  regular  business,"  as  music  in  the  case  of  a  lawyer, 
or  baseball  in  the  case  of  a  college  student.  It  is  correct,  then, 
to  say:  "The  business  of  his  life  is  politics;  he  makes  literature 
an  avocation."  If.  now,  we  use  avocation  for  vocation,  we  violate 
the  principle  of  correctness,  and  run  the  risk  of  being  understood 
in  a  sense  that  is  directly  opposite  to  what  we  intend  to  say.1 

2.  Precision.  —  Suppose  we  wish  to  set  forth  the  thought 
"  Shakspere  is  a  great  poet,"  and,  through  carelessness,  say  merely 
"  Shakspere  is  a  great  writer."  We  have  violated  no  principle  of 
correctness;  what  we  say  is  good  English  and  in  every  way 
unassailable  in  itself.  Yet  it  does  not  express  with  precision  the 
idea  thai  was  in  our  mind. 

3.  Appropriateness.  —  Suppose  we  wished  to  tell  a  child  what 
he  would  like  in  "Alice  in  Wonderland."    We  should  not  think 

of  remarking  thai  he  would  find  it  "an  entertaining  volu "  or 

"replete  with  humor."  So,  on  the  other  hand,  if  we  were  writing 
an  address  on  ••  .Modern  Humorists,"  to  be  delivered  before  a  lit- 
erary society,  we  should  not  say  that  "  Alice  in  Wonderland"  is 

1  The  use  of  avocation  for  vocation  is  gaining  ground,  bul  good  writers 
commonly  avoid  it.  In  the  plural,  however,  avocations  has  established 
itself  in  the  sense  of  "  regular  and  habitual  pursuits." 


356  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

"  very  funny."  All  the  words  in  question  are  correctly  and  pre- 
cisely used;  yet  they  would,  in  each  case,  be  inappropriate  to  the 
occasion  and  the  audience,  and  hence  they  would  distort  the  effect 
that  we  intended  to  produce. 

4.  Expressiveness. — We  must  consider  not  only  whether  a  word 
is  adapted  to  convey  our  precise  meaning  to  a  definite  audience 
on  a  particular  occasion,  but  also  whether  it  expresses  our  feelings 
about  the  subject.  Compare  "I  wished  to  find  my  father"  with 
"  I  could  not  rest  till  I  found  him."  The  former  sentence  is  good 
English  in  every  respect,  but  it  is  too  cool  and  colorless  to  suggest 
the  eager  excitement  of  an  anxious  search. 

In  studying  the  four  great  principles  of  choice,  we  observe 
that  only  the  first  involves  the  question  of  right  and 
wrong.  The  others  deal  with  questions  of  discrimination 
between  better  and  worse,  —  that  is,  with  the  closer 
adaptation  of  words  to  the  thoughts  and  feelings  which  we 
undertake  to  express.  Further,  it  is  only  in  dealing  with 
the  first  principle  (correctness)  that  we  can  keep  our 
attention  entirely  on  the  single  word.  A  vague  noun 
may  be  made  precise  by  means  of  an  adjective ;  the  tone 
of  the  whole  composition  determines  the  appropriateness 
of  each  word  that  it  contains ;  the  expressiveness  of  a 
phrase  is  often  different  from  the  sum  of  the  expressive- 
ness of  the  single  words  that  compose  it.  Clearly,  then, 
correctness  stands  on  a  different  footing  from  the  other 
three  principles  of  choice. 

CORRECTNESS 

As  soon  as  we  begin  to  study  the  principle  of  correct- 
ness in  the  use  of  words,  we  notice  that  there  is  one  class 
of  words  which  we  are  in  little  danger  of  misemploy- 
ing. Every  one  knows  what  such  terms  as  bread,  chair, 
awkward,   quick,   bark,  jump,   telephone   mean,   and   can 


CORRECTNESS  357 

use  them  accurately.  These  specific  terms,  if  only  we  are 
familiar  with  the  subject  they  concern,  need  no  definition. 
Contrasted  with  specific  words  are  such  general  terms 
as  science,  intellect,  revolution,  literature,  temperance,  affec- 
tation, propriety.  These  differ  from  the  specific  words 
in  being  far  less  definitely  limited  in  their  application. 
Indeed,  the  varieties  of  meaning  which  each  of  them 
covers  are  so  great  that  every  speaker  may  almost  be 
said  to  use  them  in  a  somewhat  different  sense. 

Compare,  for  example,  the  specific  term  book  with  the  general 
term  literature.  "  He  held  a  book  in  his  hand  "  calls  up  a  clear 
picture  in  the  mind.  There  is  no  clanger  of  our  misunderstand- 
ing the  word  or  misusing  it.  Literature,  on  the  contrary,  is  an 
elastic  term.  Its  meaning  varies  with  the  person  and  the  circum- 
stances. To  one  it  suggests  only  such  works  as  have  an  estab- 
lished reputation  for  artistic  form  ;  by  another  it  is  stretched  to 
cover  the  transient  harvest  of  the  bookstalls;  a  third  rejects  the 
trashy  novel  but  admits  a  well-written  work  of  science  ;  a  fourth 
regards  science  and  literature  as  mutually  exclusive.  Scott's 
"Ivanhoe,"  Bacon's  "Essays,"  Stanley's  "In  Darkest  Africa," 
Darwin's  "  Voyage  of  the  Beagle,"  Winsor's  "  History  of  America," 
Whately's  "Logic,"  Bryce's  "American  Commonwealth,"  and 
Dr.  Doyle's  "Hound  of  the  Baskervilles  "  are  all  books,  —  nobody 
can  dispute  that;  but  how  many  of  them  belong  to  literature?  To 
this  question  a  hundred  different  persons  might  give  a  hundred 
different  answers. 

Consider  how  men's  opinions  differ  as  to  tin'  honesty  of  a  par- 
ticular transaction,  the  propriety  of  this  or  that  line  of  conduct, 
the  wit  or  wisdom  of  some  remark  that  they  hear  or  read.  Half 
our  lives  is  spent  in  balancing  and  discussing  the  applicability 
of  such  general  terms  to  specific  acts  or  objects. 

Obviously,  then,  there  is  ample  opportunity  for  error 
in  the  use  of  general  words,  since  it  is  so  difficull  to  fix 
the,  bounds  of  their  correct  use.  Such  error  maj  con- 
sist either  in  stretching  their  sense  beyond  what  good 


358  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

usage    has    prescribed,    or    in   limiting   it   too   rigidly   in 
accordance  with  some  prejudice  or  pedantic  whim. 

Attention,  clear  thinking,  and  knowledge  of  good  lit- 
erature, are  requisite  if  we  are  to  avoid  the  pitfalls 
that  beset  the  use  of  general  terms.  Such  terms  are 
necessary  in  the  expression  of  thought.  Inaccuracy  in  their 
employment,  however,  is  fatal  to  perspicuity,  and  debilitating  to 
the  mind. 

TECHNICAL  TERMS 

Every  special  subject  or  department  of  study  —  as 
law,  medicine,  carpentry,  engineering,  or  rhetoric  —  has 
its  own  vocabulary  of  technical  terms.  Within  the  limits 
of  the  subject  in  question,  every  such  term  has  a  rigidly 
defined  sense,  which  cannot  be  disregarded  without  a 
gross  violation  of  correctness.  Many  of  these  terms, 
however,  get  into  everyday  use ;  they  are  then  sure  to 
lose  some  of  their  technical  accuracy.  Sometimes  this 
vaguer  or  less  scientific  use  becomes  established  in  the 
language ;  sometimes  it  does  not.  Here,  as  everywhere 
else,  there  is  no  standard  but  good  usage. 

Thus  federal,  in  constitutional  law,  distinguishes  the  powers 
and  attributes  of  a  common  government  that  is  established  by  a 
union  or  federation  of  states.  In  common  parlance,  however,  it 
may  signify  "  pertaining  to  the  United  States."  Both  meanings 
are  correct,  for  both  are  sanctioned  by  good  usage ;  we  should  be 
careful  not  to  confuse  the  two  or  to  employ  one  of'  them  in  a  con- 
text that  suggests  or  demands  the  other. 

Again,  intellectual,  in  psychology,  distinguishes  the  thinking  or 
reasoning  faculties  of  the  mind  from  the  senses,  emotions,  and 
instincts.  In  ordinary  language,  however,  it  is  sometimes  care- 
lessly used  as  a  synonym  for  learned.  This  looser  sense  has  some 
authority,  but,  if  not  positively  incorrect,  is  generally  avoided  by 
discriminating  writers. 


PRECISION  359 

Other  examples  of  technical  words  and  phrases  that  have 
become  more  or  less  popular  and  require  especial  rare  for  their 
accurate  use  are  evolution,  survival  of  tht  fittest,  original  sin,  total 
depravity,  unearned  increment,  metaphysical,  psychology,  critical, 
demur,  estop,  eliminate,  hypothecate,  trust  (in  the  commercial  sense), 
currency,  philology,  democratic,  aristocracy,  handicap,  microh  .  >;  rdict, 
plead,  melody,  sociology,  vivisection,  clarify,  fallacy,  sophistry,  syl- 
logism, logical,  organic,  affiliate,  degenerate,  dynamic,  entail. 

To  use  such  words  correctly  in  their  wider  application, 
we  must  know  something  of  their  original  and  technical 
meaning.  Otherwise  we  may  employ  them  so  errone- 
ously or  incongruously  as  to  obscure  our  thought  instead 
of  illuminating  it.  In  law,  a  man  is  said  to  be  estopped 
from  a  declaration  or  act  when  some  former  act  or  state- 
ment of  his  own  is  inconsistent  with  it.  Therefore  to  say, 
"The  mayor  estopped  the  aldermen  from  acting,"  is  incor- 
rect and  absurd.  On  the  other  hand,  it  would  lie  proper 
to  say  that  "the  action  of  the  aldermen  last  February 
estops  them  from  proceeding  with  their  present  plan." 

Note.  —  The  distinction  between  specific  ami  ypix-rnl  words  should  not 
be  pushed  too  far.  A  word  like  man  is  specific  as  compared  with  animal, 
but  general  as  compared  with  a  proper  noun  like  Washington,  The  ordi- 
nary rhetorical  sense  of  specific  and  general  is  far  less  exact  than  the 
logical  or  philosophical  use.  In  rhetoric,  specific  is  almost  synonymous 
with  concrete,  and  general  or  collective  often  nearly  coterminous  with 
abstract.  In  like  manner,  we  must  not  insist  too  strictly  on  the  technical 
meanings  of  words  drawn  from  the  sciences.  Such  a  word,  as  we  have 
seen,  often  establishes  itself  in  good  usage  in  a  new  or  more  extended 
signification. 

PRECISION 

The  principle  of  precision  (p.  355)  guides  us  in  fitting 
our  words  definitely  and  exactly  to  the  thought  thai  we 
wish  to  express.  Here  we  are  no  longer  dealing  with 
questions   of   right  and   wrong  in    language,   but    rather 


360  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

with  matters  of  expediency.  We  must  ask  ourselves 
not  merely,  "  Is  the  word  good  English  ? "  but  "  Does  it 
precisely  express  the  thought  that  I  have  in  mind  ? " 

Eegard  for  precision  often  requires  the  use  of  a  specific 
rather  than  a  general  word.  If  we  say  animal  when  we 
mean  dog,  or  tree  when  we  mean  elm,  or  use  picture  for 
portrait,  savage  for  Indian,  apple  for  greening,  fish  for 
trout,  disagreeable  for  ill-tempered,  building  for  statehouse, 
we  are  violating  the  principle  of  precision. 

On  the  other  hand,  if  our  thought  is  general,  —  as  of 
course  it  often  must  be,  —  a  general  word  expresses  our 
meaning  more  precisely  than  a  specific  word.  So,  if  we 
mean  animal,  or  tree,  or  picture,  or  savage,  or  apple, 
rather  than  dog,  or  elm,  or  portrait,  or  Indian,  or  green- 
ing y —  that  is,  if  we  really  wish  to  express  a  general 
rather  than  a  specific  idea,  —  precision  requires  that  we 
should  use  the  general  word.  Similarly,  legislature  is  less 
specific  than  the  Senate  and  the  House  of  Representatives 
or  the  Lords  and  Commons.  But  if  we  say,  "A  legislature 
is  ill-adapted  to  executive  functions,"  legislature  expresses 
our  meaning  with  entire  precision.  Indeed,  there  are 
many  words  and  phrases  whose  virtue  consists  hi  their 
large  inclusiveness.  Existence,  supernatural,  the  nature 
of  things,  knoivledge  of  the  universe,  the  eternal  verities 
are  the  precise  expressions  of  certain  comprehensive  ideas 
which  no  specific  terms  can  denote. 

For  most  of  us,  however,  there  is  more  danger  of  using 
a  general  term  when  a  specific  word  would  serve  the  pur- 
pose better,  than  of  using  a  specific  for  a  general  word. 
The  word  move  will  fill  the  grammatical  place  of  hop, 
run,  walk,  slide,  jolt,  sprawl,  and  a  host  of  other  verbs. 
If  our  thought  is  sluggish  or  sleepy,  it  is  easier  to  use 
the  general  word  move  than  to  call  up  the  specific  word 


AIDS  TO  PRECISION  361 

which  adds  to  the  general  idea  the  precise  idea  of  the 
particular  kind  of  motion  meant. 

One  of  the  commonest  of  rhetorical  faults  is  the 
expression  (or  half-expression)  of  specilic  ideas  in  general 
terms.  A  teacher,  therefore,  is  constantly  obliged  to 
change  a  general  word  to  a  specific  in  correcting  students' 
essays,  and  must  emphasize  incessantly  the  advantages  of 
specific  language.  Hence  beginners  sometimes  get  the 
odd  notion  that  specific  words  are  in  themselves  better 
than  general  words,  and  are  therefore  always  to  be  pre- 
ferred. This  misapprehension  confuses  them  extremely, 
since  every  page  that  they  read  and  every  conversation 
that  they  hear  illustrates  its  falsity.  The  precise  word  or 
phrase  is  the  word  or  phrase  which  expresses  the  exact 
idea  precisely ;  it  will  be  specific  or  general  according 
as  the  idea  itself  is  specific  or  general. 

AIDS  TO  PRECISION 

It  is  a  great  help  to  the  exact  understanding  and  the 
precise  use  of  words  to  know  their  derivation.  Many  of 
our  general  words  come  from  the  Latin,  and  in  such 
cases  the  Latin  meaning  is  often  more  concrete  or  more 
picturesque  than  the  English.  Almost  all  English  and 
American  writers  of  distinction  have  had  some  acquaint- 
ance with  Latin,  and  have  used  these  borrowed  terms 
with  a  keen  sense  of  their  original  meaning.  Such 
a    feeling  for   derivation   is   a    distinct   aid    to    precision. 

Determine  means  literally  "to  mark  off  the  boundaries"  (com- 
pare terminus) ;  prospect,  "a  looh  ahead";  satisfaction,  "doing 
enongh";  doctrine,  "teaching"  ;  eradicate,  "to  rout  out  "  ;  deter, 
"to  frighten  away";  a/i/in-hew/,  ••(<>  catch  hold  of";  magnani- 
mous, " great-souled " ;  complicated,  "folded  together";  introduce, 
"to  lead  in";  diffuse,  "poured  apart,"  "scattered." 


362  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

It  should  be  remembered,  however,  that  most  of  these 
borrowed  words  have  changed  their  signification  more 
or  less  in  English.  We  must  therefore  take  care  not  to 
make  our  style  fantastic  or  unintelligible  by  adhering  too 
closely  to  the  Latin  meaning. 

A  number  of  words  that  illustrate  the  importance  of  etymo- 
logical study  are  here  noted  as  examples  : — anticipate,  surreptitious, 
convince,  dilapidated,  secure,  ponder,  fiscal,  redound,  equivocation, 
edify,  solution,  sinecure,  discuss,  collateral,  circumstance,  depend,  con- 
sent, oblivion,  martial,  insult,  reluctant,  transfix,  pretext,  abstract,  insinu- 
ate, exposition,  explanation,  repulsion,  redeem,  subtraction,  torture, 
trail  it  ion,  conclusion,  innuendo,  exaggeration,  aggravation,  obvious, 
superannuated,  negative,  disturbance,  implication,  supercilious,  encour- 
age (compare  dishearten'),  real,  science,  reveal  (compare  revelation'), 
jeopardy,  adventure,  agreeable,  engagement,  feature.  For  a  study  of 
the  English  vocabulary,  with  special  reference  to  development  of 
meanings,  see  "  Words  and  their  Ways  in  English  Speech "  by 
J.  B.  Greenough  and  G.  L.  Kittredge. 

Precision  is  not  altogether  a  matter  of  single  words. 
If  a  word  is  too  general  to  express  our  exact  meaning, 
we  may  often  make  it  precise  by  means  of  a  modifier. 

Thus,  "  The  president  was  elected  for  a  second  term "  may 
apply  to  any  one  of  several  presidents  of  the  United  States,  not  to 
.speak  of  presidents  of  societies  and  corporations.  "  The  president 
of  the  United  States"  is  more  precise,  and  "the  first  president  of 
the  United  States  "  can  refer  to  Washington  alone.  In  this  case 
we  are  dealing  with  adjective  modifiers ;  but  the  same  principle 
holds  of  adverbs,  adverbial  phrases,  and  adverbial  clauses.1 

Precision  requires  not  only  an  exact  and  thorough 
knowledge  of  the  subject  on  which  we  write,  but  the 
command  of  an  extensive  vocabulary  and  the  power  to 
discriminate  nicely  between  the  meanings  of  words.  As 
we  advance   in  experience  and  education,  we  learn  to 

i  Compare  "The  Mother  Tongue,"  Book  II,  pp.  37-38. 


APPROPRIATENESS  363 

distinguish  more  and  more  sharply  among  objects  and 
ideas,  and  consequently  we  feel  an  ever-increasing  need 
for  precision  in  expressing  our  thoughts.  If  our  ideas 
are  blurred  and  muddy,  we  can  get  along  without  it;  if 
they  are  clear  and  distinctly  outlined,  our  language  must 
be  precise  if  it  is  to  represent  them  accurately. 

APPROPRIATENESS 

The  third  great  principle  in  choosing  words  is  appro- 
priateness. Even  if  our  words  are  used  correctly  and 
express  our  meaning  with  precision,  the}-  will  fail  of 
their  purpose  unless  they  are  appropriate  to  the  subject,  to 
the  occasion,  and  to  the  reader's  understanding.  If  we  talk 
over  the  heads  of  our  hearers,  they  will  not  listen.  If  we 
resort  to  an  affected  simplicity,  they  will  feel  offended  or 
contemptuous.  If  our  language  is  slangy,  or  slipshod, 
or  over-colloquial,  they  will  doubt  our  sincerity  or  our 
appreciation  of  the  subject.  We  must  put  ourselves  in 
the  place  of  our  readers,  for  this  is  the  only  sure  guide 
to  appropriateness. 

Appropriateness  is  what  used  to  be  called  propriety. 
Thus  Dryden,  speaking  of  poetry,  remarks,  in  a  famous 
passage:  "Propriety  of  thought  is  that  fancy  which 
arises  naturally  from  the  subject,  or  which  the  poet 
adapts  to  it.  Propriety  of  words  is  the  clothing  of  these 
thoughts  with  such  expressions  as  are  naturally  proper 
to  them." 

In  writing  about  simple  and  familiar  tilings  we  should 
use  simple  words.  We  should  not,  as  Goldsmith  said  of 
Dr.  Johnson,  "  make  little  fishes  talk  like  whales."  Novel- 
ists often  ridicule  the  habit  of  using  pompous  or  "big" 
words.     Thus    George    Eliot,   in    " Middlemarch,"    makes 


364  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Mr.  Turnbull,  the  auctioneer,  say,  "  0  yes,  anybody  may 
ask.  Anybody  may  interrogate.  Any  one  may  give  their 
remarks  an  interrogative  turn."  Mr.  Micawber  in  "  David 
Copperfield"  habitually  speaks  in  the  following  style: 
"  My  dear  Copperfield,  this  is  indeed  a  meeting  which  is 
calculated  to  impress  the  mind  with  a  sense  of  the  insta- 
bility and  uncertainty  of  all  human  —  in  short,  it  is  a 
most  extraordinary  meeting." 

The  familiar  words  in  English  are  not  all  short,  how- 
ever. Pendulum,  contradict,  arsenic,  elastic,  monotonous, 
photographer,  consequence,  obstinate,  and  countless  others 
came  into  the  language  as  "learned  words"  from  Latin 
and  Greek,  but  are  now  in  everyday  use.  The  progress  of 
science  and  the  spread  of  education  are  continually  famil- 
iarizing us  with  such  terms  and  thus  enlarging  the  vocab- 
ulary of  ordinary  life. 

Simple  language  is  well  suited  to  most  expositions, 
and  to  arguments  addressed  to  the  reason  alone.'  In 
such  cases,  any  approach  to  a  florid  style  seems  like 
affectation  and  may  even  suggest  insincerity. 

The  use  of  simple  words,  however,  is  not  limited  to 
the  familiar  style.  Observe  the  impressiveness  of  the 
following  passages,  —  the  first  from  "  Macbeth,"  the 
second  from  the  Book  of  Job :  — 

To-morrow,  and  to-morrow,  and  to-morrow 
Creeps  in  this  petty  pace  from  day  to  day, 
To  the  last  syllable  of  recorded  time ; 
And  all  our  yesterdays  have  lighted  fools 
The  way  to  dusty  death.    Out,  out,  brief  candle  ! 
Life  's  but  a  walking  shadow,  a  poor  player, 
That  struts  and  frets  his  hour  upon  the  stage 
And  then  is  heard  no  more ;  it  is  a  tale 
Told  by  an  idiot,  full  of  sound  and  fury, 
Signifying  nothing. 


APPROPRIATENESS  365 

In  thoughts  from  the  visions  of  the  night,  when  deep  sleep 
falleth  on  men,  fear  came  upon  me,  and  trembling,  which  made 
all  my  bones  to  shake.  Then  a  spirit  passed  before  ray  face  ; 
the  hair  of  my  flesh  stood  up.  It  stood  still,  but  I  could  not  dis- 
cern the  form  thereof  :  an  image  was  before  mine  eyes  ;  there  was 
silence,  and  I  heard  a  voice,  saying :  "  Shall  mortal  man  be  more 
just  than  God?    Shall  a  man  be  more  pure  than  his  maker?" 

These  two  passages  coutain  hardly  a  word  that  is  not 
familiar  to  everybody,  and  the  simplicity  of  the  language 
enhances  their  power.  We  should  not  underestimate  the 
expressive  value  of  common  words  merely  because  they 
serve  the  ordinary  purposes  of  life. 

Simplicity  of  style,  however,  is  not  always  appropriate 
to  the  occasion.  Read  the  following  extract  from  Webster's 
"  First  Oration  on  Bunker  Hill  Monument  "  :  — 

This  uncounted  multitude  before  me  and  around  me  proves  the 
feeling  which  the  occasion  has  excited.  These  thousands  of 
human  faces,  glowing  with  sympathy  and.  joy,  and  from  the 
impulses  of  a  common  gratitude  turned  reverently  to  heaven  in 
this  spacious  temple  of  the  firmament,  proclaim  that  the  day.  the 
place,  and  the  purpose  of  our  assembling  have  made  a  deep 
impression  on  our  hearts. 

If,  indeed,  there  be  anything  in  local,  association  fit  to  affect 
the  mind  of  man,  we  need  not  strive  to  repress  the  emotions 
which  agitate  us  here.  We  are  among  the  sepulchres  of  our 
fathers.  We  are  on  ground  distinguished  by  their  valor,  their 
constancy,  and  the  shedding  of  their  blood.  We  are  here,  not  to 
fix  an  uncertain  date  in  our  annals,  nor  to  draw  into  notice  an 
obscure  and  unknown  spot.  If  our  humble  purpose  had  never 
been  conceived,  if  we  ourselves  had  never  been  born,  the  17th  of 
June.  177.").  would  have  been  a  day  on  which  all  subsequenl  his- 
tory would  have  poured  its  light,  and  the  eminence  where  we 
stand  a  point  of  attraction  to  the  eyes  of  successive  generations. 

But  we  are  Americans.    We  live  in  what  may  be  called  (1 arly 

age  of  this  great  continent;  and  we  know  that  our  posterity, 
through  all  time,  are  here  to  enjoy  and  suffer  the  allotment 


366  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

humanity.  We  see  before  us  a  probable  train  of  great  events  ; 
we  know  that  our  own  fortunes  have  been  happily  cast  ;  and  it  is 
natural,  therefore,  that  we  should  be  moved  by  the  contemplation 
of  occurrences  which  have  guided  our  destiny  before  many  of  us 
were  born,  and  settled  the  condition  in  which  we  shall  pass  that 
portion  of  our  existence  which  God  allows  to  men  on  earth. 

Here  the  dignity  of  a  great  celebration  called  for  a 
larger  proportion  of  long  and  sonorous  words  than  would 
have  been  appropriate  on  an  ordinary  occasion.  Such  an 
opening  sentence  as,  "  There  are  a  great  many  of  us  here 
to-day,  all  full  of  enthusiasm,  all  eager  to  show  how  much 
we  think  of  the  day  and  the  place,"  would  have  been 
absurdly  out  of  keeping.  Full-sounding  words  and  phrases 
like  multitude,  reverently,  temple  of  the  firmament,  local 
association  fitted  the  solemnity  of  the  moment.  Familiar 
terms  were  inappropriate ;  what  was  needed  was  an 
elevated  and  stately  vocabulary. 

The  same  principle  of  appropriateness  which  "Webster 
followed  in  his  oration  should  guide  us  in  our  choice  of 
words.  In  a  letter  to  an  older  person,  one  naturally  uses 
a  less  familiar  style  than  in  a  letter  to  a  friend  of  one's 
own  age ;  and  a  speech  at  graduation  calls  for  a  still 
more  dignified  vocabulary.  In  short,  we  should  always 
consider  the  occasion  and  choose  our  words  in  accordance 
with  its  demands. 

SPECIAL  QUESTIONS  OF  APPROPRIATENESS 

Every  art,  science,  and  craft  has  its  special  vocabulary 
of  technical  terms  which  are  unintelligible  to  most  out- 
siders (see  p.  349).  The  same  is  true  of  many  games  and 
sports.  In  discussing  football  with  a  company  of  boys, 
you  can  safely  use  such  terms  as  guard,  quarter-back, 
and  signal  in   their  special  senses  without    explanation. 


EXPRESSIVENESS  307 

Chamfer,  dowels,  and  countersink  are  immediately  clear 
to  a  carpenter;  sequelae, septicaemia, and  'prophylaxis  to  a 
physician;  trover,  tort,  and  contributor!/  negligent  to  a 
lawyer;  cold-swaged,  gudgeon,  and  bevel  gear  to  a  mechanic,, 

and  so  on.  Technical  terms  are  appropriate  in  a  technical 
treatise  addressed  to  a  body  of  specialists,  but  they  should 
be  sparingly  used  in  ordinary  writings,  and,  when  they  are 
necessary,  should  be  carefully  defined. 

Many  such  terms,  however,  have  become  familial'  parts 
of  the  ordinary  vocabulary,  and  these  may  of  course  be  used 
freely  without  definition  or  apology. 

Such    are,  —  mortgage,    attorney,    injunction,    oxygen,    dovetail, 

mortise,  insulate,   dynamo,   inoculate,  cauterize,  microbe. 

Archaic  words  and  forms  are  freely  used  in  poetry  (see 
p.  349).  In  prose,  however,  they  are  seldom  appropriate 
except  in  conversational  passages  that  aim  to  produce  an 
effect  of  antiquity.  <  hi  the  same  principle,  colloquialisms, 
dialect  words,  slang,  and  bad  grammar  may  often  be  found 
in  dialogue.  In  all  such  cases,  the  writer's  purpose  is  to 
make  his  characters  seem  real  and  to  throw  light  on  their 
station  or  circumstances  (see  p.  60).  The  device  is  a 
good  one;  but,  when  overworked,  or  when  a  laborious 
effort  is  made  to  reproduce  the  exact  sound,  it  becomes 
exceedingly  tiresome. 

EXPRESSIVENESS 

The  fourth  principle  in  the  choice  of  words  is  express- 
iveness. It  is  not  enough  that  our  language  should  be 
correct,  precise,  and  appropriate  to  the  subject  and  the 
occasion.  It  may  fulfil  all  these  requirements  and  still 
fail  to  move  or  interest  the  reader  because  our  words  are 
cold  and  unexpressive. 


368  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

The  expressiveness  of  a  word  or  phrase  depends  not 
merely  on  what  it  actually  denotes,  hut  also  on  its  asso- 
ciations and  on  what  it  suggests,  —  that  is,  on  the  ideas 
and  feelings  winch  it  calls  up  in  our  minds  over  and 
above  its  precise  meanhig. 

Thus^si  means  simply  "  the  hand  with  the  fingers  doubled  up 
against  the  palm,"  but  it  suggests  a  pugilistic  encounter  ;  scalpel 
suggests  all  that  we  know  or  have  heard  of  surgical  operations ; 
poniard  suggests  bravos  and  midnight  assassinations ;  anvil  sug- 
gests some  blacksmith's  shop  with  which  we  are  familiar. 

These  associations  of  words  vary  infinitely.  Sometimes 
they  are  merely  personal,  going  back  to  a  particular  inci- 
dent or  experience.1  Sometimes,  on  the  contrary,  they  are 
common  to  all  speakers,  and  thus  have  become,  to  all 
intents  and  purposes,  a  part  of  the  meaning  which  the 
words  convey.  Home,  for  example,  is  distinguished  from 
house  or  residence  by  the  associations  of  comfort  and  affec- 
tion that  belong  to  it.  A  moment's  thought  will  enable 
one  to  recall  many  other  words  which,  suggest,  in  like 
manner,  much  more  than  they  actually  denote. 

This  suggestive  power  of  words  and  phrases  must  always 
be  borne  hi  mind  in  writing,  as  well  as  their  definite 
sense.  Otherwise  we  shall  run  the  risk  not  only  of  miss- 
ing their  full  expressiveness,  but  also  of  combining  them 
incongruously. 

Expressiveness  often  depends  not  merely  on  a  skilful 
choice  of  single  words,  but  also  on  their  felicitous  combi- 
nation in  phrases  and  sentences.     Observe  the  depth  and 

1  Every  one  can  think  of  words  for  which  he  feels  a  whimsical  aver- 
sion, not  because  they  are  unpleasant  in  sound  or  meaning,  but  simply 
because  they  are  associated  in  his  mind  with  a  disagreeable  experience  or 
an  uncongenial  person. 


GENERAL   AND   SPECIFIC   WORDS  369 

intensity  of  feeling  expressed  by  the  italicized  phrases  in 
the  following  passage  from  Thackeray  :  — 

Remember  your  own  young  days  at  school,  my  friend,  —  the 

tingling  cheeks,  burning  ears,  bursting  heart,  and  passion  of  desperate 
tears,  with  which  you  looked  up,  alter  having  performed  some 
blunder,  whilst  the  Doctor  held  you  up  to  public  scorn  before  the 
class,  and  cracked  his  great  clumsy  jokes  upon  you  —  helpless 
and  a  prisoner  ! 

Here,  as  often,  the  expressive  force  of  the  words  resides 
in  their  combined  power  to  suggest  definite  physical  sen- 
sations which  form  part  of  the  ordinary  experience  of 
every  reader  (see  pp.  102-105).1 

GENERAL  AND  SPECIFIC  WORDS 

Words  differ  greatly  in  expressiveness.  Abstract  terms 
like  quality,  essence,  elevation  are  applicable  to  so  many 
particular  cases  that  they  carry  no  individual  suggestions. 
A  preponderance  of  such  words  makes  one's  writing  dull 
and  neutral-tinted.  More  specific  words,  on  the  other 
hand,  —  like  willow,  orange,  spring,  irritable,  panther,  — 
are  limited  in  their  application.  Consequently,  they  are 
surrounded  by  definite  associations,2  and  thus  have  the 
power  to  suggest  or  connote  much  that  they  do  not  actually 
say.  Such  words,  therefore,  are  more  vivid  and  expressive 
than  general  terms.3 

Expressiveness,  then,  is  enhanced  by  the  use  of  specific 
words,  and,  in  particular,  by  those  which  suggest  action 
or  feeling.  The  more  specific  a  word  is,  the  more  vivid 
and  expressive  it  is  likely  to  be.4 

1  See  the  examples  of  simile  and  metaphor  (pp.  373-376). 

2  See  especially  pp.  in:;  104. 

8  On  specific  ami  general  words,  see  also  pp.  .'ii '><>-.'!<!  1 . 

4  See  the  discussion  of  the  value  of  sensations  in  descriptions  (p.  102). 


370  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

"  A  dog  ran  out  and  barked  at  me,"  conveys  a  less  vivid 
impression  than  "  A  terrier  ran  out  and  barked  at  me."  The 
word  terrier  instantly  calls  up  in  the  reader's  mind  the  image  of  a 
small  dog,  with  quick,  restless  movements,  and  a  sharp,  quick 
bark.  Probably,  also,  he  will  think  of  a  particular  terrier  with 
which  he  is  acquainted.  Dog,  however,  calls  up  a  much  vaguer 
image,  for  the  animal  may  be  anything  from  a  poodle  to  a  blood- 
hound. In  such  cases,  the  specific  word  terrier  includes  the  mean- 
ing of  the  general  term  and  a  good  deal  besides. 

De  Foe  writes  of  Robinson  Crusoe's  first  attempts  to  make 
earthenware,  that  they  produced  "  odd,  misshapen,  ugly  things." 1 
This  is  far  more  vivid  than  if  he  had  written  that  the  pottery 
was  "  irregular  in  shape,"  —  a  phrase  which  would  have  expressed 
the  bare  fact  well  enough.  Ik  Marvel's  description  of  Spring  in 
"  Dream  Life "  owes  its  interest  and  effectiveness  to  its  vivid 
specific  words,  as  in  the  sentence  :  "  The  old  elms  throw  down 
their  dingy  flowers,  and  color  their  spray  with  green  ;  and  the 
brooks  where  you  throw  your  worm  or  the  minnow,  float  down 
whole  fleets  of  the  crimson  blossoms  of  the  maple." 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH 

Expressiveness  is  greatly  assisted  by  the  appropriate 
use  of  figurative  language. 

Our  ordinary  talk  is  full  of  figures  of  speech.  We  use 
them  unconsciously,  obeying  the  natural  tendency  to  com- 
pare one  thing  with  another  that  resembles  it,  whether  in 
fact  or  in  our  imagination. 

When  a  student  speaks  of  "  hammering  aivay  at  his  algebra," 
or  says  that  he  has  "just  squeezed  through"  an  examination  in 
Latin,  or  that  a  date  in  history  has  "  slipped  his  mind,"  he  is  using 
a  figure  of  speech.  The  expressions  noted  are  manifestly  more 
vivid  than  if  he  were  to  say  that  he  is  "  studying  hard  at  his 
algebra,"  or  that  he   has   "  barely  passed  the  examination,"  or 

1  The  vague  word  things  is  used  with  excellent  judgment,  for  the  shape 
ef  the  vessels  was  so  uncertain  that  Crusoe  did  not  know  what  to  call  them. 


FIGURES  OF  SPEECH  371 

"forgotten  the  date."  The  general  sense  is  the  same  in  either 
case,  but  the  language  in  the  former  instance  suggests  a  livelier 
and  more  picturesque  conception  of  the  facts,  and  therefore 
attracts  and  holds  the  hearer's  attention  more  certainly. 

Goldsmith,  in  one  of  his  essays,  calls  attention  to  the 
familiarity  of  "  tropes,"  or  figurative  uses  of  words :  — 

Tropes  are  found  in  the  most  ordinary  forms  of  conversation. 
Thus,  in  every  language  the  heart  burns;  the  courage  is  roused  ; 
the  eyes  sparkle  ;  the  spirits  are  cast  down ;  passion  inflames, 
pride  swells,  and  pity  sinks  the  soul.  Nature  everywhere  speaks 
in  those  stray  images,  which,  from  their  frequency,  pass  unnoticed. 

The  power  of  an  author  often  shows  itself  in  noble,  but 
spontaneous,  figures  of -speech;  for  it  is  the  great  writers 
who  see  new  truths  and  deeper  relations  in  the  world 
about  them  which  the  old  phrases  will  not  express.  Eead 
the  following  passage  from  Bacon's  "Advancement  of 
Learning  " :  — 

But  the  greatest  error  of  all  the  rest  is  the  mistaking  or  mis- 
placing of  the  last  or  furthest  end  of  knowledge.  For  men  have 
entered  into  a  desire  of  learning  and  knowledge,  sometimes  upon 
a  natural  curiosity  and  inquisitive  appetite;  sometimes  to  enter- 
tain their  minds  with  variety  and  delight  ;  sometimes  for  ornament 
and  reputation;  and  sometimes  to  enable  them  to  victory  of  wit 
and  contradiction;  and  most  times  for  lucre  and  profession  ;  and 
seldom  sincerely  to  give  a  true  account  of  their  gift  of  reason,  to 
the  benefit  and  use  of  men  :  as  if  there  were  sought  in  knowledge 
a  couch,  whereupon  to  rest  a  searching  and  restless  spirit;  or  a 
terrace,  for  a  wandering  and  variable  mind  to  walk  uj>  and  down 
with  a  fair  prospect;  or  a  tower  of  state,  for  a  proud  mind  to 
raise  itself  upon;  or  a  fort  or  commanding  ground,  for  strife 
and  eon  tent  ion  ;  or  a  shop,  for  profit  or  sale  ;  and  not  a  rich  store- 
house, for  the  glory  of  the  Creator  and  the  relief  of  man's  estate. 

Here  the  splendor  <»f  the  imagery  is  no  mere  embel- 
lishment. Without  it,  Bacon  could  not  have  given 
adequate  expression  to    his  enthusiastic    appreciation   of 


372  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

learning  and  his  fine  scorn  for  the  unworthy  uses  to 
winch  it  is  sometimes  put.  At  the  same  time,  the  figures 
elevate  the  passage  from  the  ordinary  levels  of  prose  to 
a  noble  eloquence. 

Between  such  simple,  unstudied  figures  of  speech  as 
those  cited  on  page  370  and  the  loftiest  heights  of  poetic 
imagery,  there  is  no  essential  distinction.  The  difference, 
great  as  it  is,  is  a  difference  not  of  kind  but  of  degree.  If 
our  feelings  are  active,  we  unconsciously  enliven  their 
expression  by  using  figures  of  speech;  for  figurative  lan- 
guage is  natural  to  all  men. 

SIMILES  AND  METAPHORS 

The  most  important  figures  of  speech  are  the  simile  and 
the  metaphor.  Both  of  these  are  founded  on  comparison ; 
they  express,  in  different  ways,  our  perception  of  the  like- 
ness between  two  objects  or  ideas. 

When  we  say  "  A  cat  is  like  a  tiger  "  or  "  The  cat  is  as  fierce 
as  a  tiger,"  Ave  are  making  a  comparison,  but  it  is  a  comparison 
of  fact,  and  our  language  is  not  figurative.  We  mean  that  a  cat 
actually  resembles  a  tiger  in  its  appearance,  habits,  and  disposition, 
and  that  the  two  creatures  belong  to  the  same  order  of  animals. 

If  we  go  one  step  farther  and  say,  "  The  soldier  fought  like  a 
tiger,"  our  expression  is  figurative.  We  do  not  mean  that  the 
soldier  fought  with  his  teeth  and  nails,  but  that  he  exhibited  such 
strength,  activity,  and  ferocity  as  to  remind  us  of  a  tiger.  Our 
comparison  is  still  expressed  in  the  form  of  a  likeness :  but  it  is 
no  longer  literal  ;  it  is  imaginative.    We  have  used  a  simile. 

Finally,  we  may  change  "  The  soldier  fought  like  a  tiger  "  into 
"  The  soldier  was  a  tiger  in  fight."  The  meaning  is  the  same ; 
but  this  time  the  comparison  is  not  expressed ;  it  is  merely 
implied.  Instead  of  comparing  the  soldier  to  a  tiger,  we  have 
called  him  a  tiger,  —  that  is,  we  have  actually  applied  to  him  the 
name  of  the  animal  which  he  resembles.  Such  an  expression  is 
called  a  metaphor. 


SIMILES   AND   METAPHORS  373 

A  simile,  then,  expresses  a  figurative  resemblance  be- 
tween two  objects  or  ideas  in  the  form  of  a  compari- 
son (usually  with  like  or  as).  A  metaphor  indicates  this 
resemblance  by  applying  to  one  of  the  objects  or  ideas  a 
word  that  literally  designates  the  other. 

Every  simile  may  be  compressed  into  a  metaphor ; 
every  metaphor  may  be  expanded  into  a  simile. 

The  following  examples  from  Shakspere  will  illus- 
trate the  difference  between  these  two  figures  of  speech. 
The  first  five  are  similes  ;  the  rest  are  metaphors.  Change 
each  simile  into  a  metaphor  and  each  metaphor  into  a 
simile,  and  observe  the  difference  in  effectiveness. 

1.  Like  madness  is  the  glory  of  this  life. 

2.  It  is  too  rash;  too  unadvised  ;  too  sudden; 
Too  like  the  lightning,  which  doth  cease  to  be 
Ere  one  can  say  "  It  lightens." 

3.  Your  face,  my  thane,  is  as  a  book  where  men 
May  read  strange  matters. 

4.  His  power,  like  to  a  fangless  lion, 
May  offer,  but  not  hold. 

5.  If  we  do  now  make  our  atonement  well, 
Our  peace  will,  like  a  broken  limb  united, 
Grow  stronger  for  the  breaking. 

6.  This  rudeness  is  a  sauce  to  his  good  wit, 
Which  gives  men  stomach  to  digest  his  words 
With  better  appetite. 

7.  And  why  should  Cfesar  be  a  tyrant  then? 
Poor  man  !    I  know  lie  would  not  be  a  wolf, 
But  that  he  sees  the  Romans  are  but  sheep  : 
He  were  no  lion,  were  not  Romans  hinds. 

8.  Lowliness  is  young  Ambition's  ladder, 
Whereto  the  climber-upward  turns  his  lace; 
But  when  he  once  attains  the  upmost  round, 
He  straight  unto  the  Ladder  turns  his  Lack. 
Looks  in  tin'  clouds,  scorning  the  base  degrees 
By  which  he  did  ascend. 


374  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

9.  Boy  !  Lucius  !    Fast  asleep  !    It  is  no  matter ; 
Enjoy  the  honey-heavy  dew  of  slumber. 
Thou  hast  no  figures  nor  no  fantasies 
Which  busy  care  draws  in  the  brains  of  men  : 
Therefore  thou  sleep'st  so  sound. 

Similes  are  sometimes  long  and  elaborate,  as  in  the  fol- 
lowing lines  from  Goldsmith's  "  Traveller  "  :  — 

As  some  lone  miser,  visiting  his  store, 

Bends  at  his  treasure,  counts,  recounts  it  o'er ; 

Hoards  after  hoards  his  rising  raptures  fill, 

Yet  still  he  sighs,  for  hoards  are  wanting  still : 

Thus  to  my  breast  alternate  passions  rise, 

Pleased  with  each  good  that  Heaven  to  man  supplies  : 

Yet  oft  a  sigh  prevails,  and  sorrows  fall, 

To  see  the  hoard  of  human  bliss  so  small ; 

And  oft  I  wish  amidst  the  scene  to  find 

Some  spot  to  real  happiness  consigned, 

Where  my  worn  soul,  each  wandering  hope  at  rest, 

May  gather  bliss  to  see  my  fellows  blest. 

Such  elaborate  similes  are  often  called  "  Homeric,"  because 
they  occur  frequently  in  the  "  Iliad  "  and  the  "  Odyssey." 

A  metaphor,  also,  may  be  sustained  and  carried  out 
to  considerable  length,  as  in  the  following  passage  from 
Gray's  ode  on  "  The  Progress  of  Poesy  "  :  — 

From  Helicon's  harmonious  springs 

A  thousand  rills  their  mazy  progress  take  : 

The  laughing  flowers  that  round  them  blow 

Drink  life  and  fragrance  as  they  flow. 

Now  the  rich  stream  of  music  winds  alone, 

Deep,  majestic,  smooth,  and  strong, 

Through  verdant  vales,  and  Ceres'  golden  reign : 

Now,  rolling  down  the  steep  amain, 

Headlong,  impetuous,  see  it  pour ; 

The  rocks  and  nodding  groves  rebellow  to  the  roar. 


SIMILES   AND  METAPHORS  375 

A  long  metaphor  is  analogous,  in  its  general  effect,  to  a 
periodic  sentence  (p.  323).  In  both,  the  mind  of  the 
reader  is,  as  it  were,  held  in  suspense  till  the  end  of  the 
passage  is  reached. 

Sometimes  a  simile  and  a  metaphor  are  inextricably 
combined,  as  in  the  following  passage  from  "  Othello  "  :  — 

Like  to  the  Pontic  sea, 
Whose  icy  current  and  compixlsive  course 
Ne'er  feels  retiring  ebb,  but  keeps  due  on 
To  the  Propontic  and  the  Hellespont ; 
Even  so  my  bloody  thoughts,  with  violent  pace, 
Shall  ne'er  look  back,  ne'er  ebb  to  humble  love, 
Till  that  a  capable  and  wide  revenge 
Swallow  them  up. 

The  following  examples  of  metaphor  and  simile  illus- 
trate the  use  of  these  figures  in  prose :  — 

1.  Do  not  suffer  life  to  stagnate  ;  it  will  grow  muddy  for  want 
of  motion.  — Johnson. 

2.  One  generation  blows  bubbles,  and  the  next  breaks  them. 

—  Cowper. 

3.  Bashf  ulness  and  apathy  are  a  tough  husk,  in  which  a  delicate 
organization  is  protected  from  premature  ripening.  — Emerson. 

4.  His  life  was  formal.    His  actions  seemed  ruled  with  a  ruler. 

—  Lamb. 

5.  In  the  first  enjoyment  of  the  state  of  life  we  discard  the 
fear  of  debts  and  duns,  and  never  think  of  the  final  payment  of 
our  great  debt  to  Nature.  —  Hazlitt. 

6.  His  [.Milton's]  poetry  reminds  us  of  the  miracles  of  Alpine 
scenery.  Nooks  and  dells,  beautiful  as  fairyland,  are  embosomed 
in  its  most  rugged  and  gigantic  elevations.  —  Macaulay. 

7.  We  must  read  our  classic  with  open  eyes,  and  not  with  eyes 
blinded  with  superstition.       Matthew  Arnold. 

8.  A  man's  nature  runs  either  to  herbs  or  weeds  ;  therefore  let 
him  seasonably  water  the  one,  and  destroy  the  other.  —  Bacon. 

9.  Such  a  talent  in  verse  as  mine  is  like  a  child's  rattle, — 
very  entertaining  to  the  trifler  that  uses  it,  and  very  disagreeable 
to  all  beside.  —  Cowpkk. 


376  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

10.  "The  state  of  a  mind  oppressed  with  a  sudden  calamity," 
said  Imlac,  "  is  like  that  of  the  fabulous  inhabitants  of  the  new- 
created  earth,  who,  when  the  first  night  came  upon  them,  sup- 
posed that  day  never  would  return."  —  Johnson. 

11.  Prosperity  often  irritates  our  chronical  distempers,  and 
leaves  no  hope  of  finding  any  specific  but  in  adversity.  In 
such  cases  banishment  is  like  change  of  ah-,  and  the  evils  we 
suffer  are  like  rough    medicines  applied  to  inveterate    diseases. 

BOLINGBROKE. 

12.  A  student  unacquainted  with  the  attempts  of  former 
adventurers  is  always  apt  to  overrate  his  own  abilities ;  to  mistake 
the  most  trifling  excursions  for  discoveries  of  moment,  and  every 
coast  new  to  him  for  a  new-found  country.  If  by  chance  he  passes 
beyond  his  usual  limits,  he  congratulates  his  own  arrival  at  those 
regions  which  those  who  have  steered  a  better  course  have  long 
left  behind  them.  —  Sir  Joshua  Reynolds. 

Metonymy  is  a  figure  by  which  the  name  of  one  object 
is  given  to  another,  not  by  way  of  comparison  (as  in 
metaphors),  but  because  one  suggests  the  other  by  some 
association  of  facts  or  ideas. 

Examples  :  the  knife,  for  surgery;  the  press,  f or  the  newspapers; 
crown,  for  royal  government;  the  plough,  for  agriculture;  a  good 
head,  for  a  good  mind;  a  troop  of  horse,  for  a  troop  of  horsemen; 
to  address  the  chair,  for  the  chairman;  the  bench,  for  the  judges; 
to  read  Shakspere,  for  Shakspere's  works. 


PERSONIFICATION 

Personification  is  a  figure  of  speech  which  represents  (1) 
a  lifeless  object,  (2)  one  of  the  lower  animals,  or  (3)  an 
idea,  quality,  or  other  abstraction,  as  a  person,  —  that  is, 
as  capable  of  thought,  feeling,  and  speech.    Thus,  — 

1.  Thou  sure  and  firm-set  earth, 

Hear  not  my  steps,  which  way  they  walk,  for  fear 

Thy  very  stones  prate  of  my  whereabout.  —  Shakspere. 


PERSONIFICATK I N  377 

2.  They  left  me  then,  when  the  gray-hooded  Ev'n, 
Like  a  sad  votarist  in  palmer's  weed, 

Rose  from  the  hindmost  wheels  of  Phoebus' wain.  —  Milton. 

3.  Who  loves  not  Knowledge?   Who  shall  rail 

Against  her  beauty  ?    May  she  mix 
With  men  and  prosper  !     Who  shall  fix 
Her  pillars?     Let  her  work  prevail.  —  Tennyson. 

4.  Boldness  is  a  child  of  Ignorance  and  Baseness.  —  Bacon. 

5.  Truth  speaks  too  low,  Hypocrisy  too  loud.  —  Dryden.    * 

6.  Red  Battle  stamps  his  foot,  and  nations  feel  the  shock. 
—  Byron. 

7.  For  Winter  came  :  the  wind  was  his  whip  ;  ♦ 
One  choppy  finger  was  on  his  lip; 

He  had  torn  the  cataracts  from  the  hills, 

And  they  clanked  at  his  girdle  like  manacles.  —  Shelley. 

8.  There  is  another  sort  of  imaginary  beings  that  we  sometimes 
meet  with  among  the  poets,  when  the  author  represents  any  pas- 
sion, appetite,  virtue,  or  vice  under  a  visible  shape,  and  makes  it 
a  person  or  an  actor  in  his  poem.  Of  this  nature  are  the  descrip- 
tions of  Hunger  and  Envy  in  Ovid,  of  Fame  in  Virgil,  and  of  Sin 
and  Death  in  Milton.  We  find  a  whole  creation  of  the  like  shad- 
owy persons  in  Spenser,  who  had  an  admirable  talent  in  repre- 
sentations of  this  kind.  —  Addison. 

In  the  following  passage  from  one  of  Gray's  letters, 
whimsical  personification  gives  a  delicately  humorous 
effect :  — 

Low  spirits  are  my  true  and  faithful  companions;  they  get  up 
with  me,  go  to  bed  with  me,  make  journeys  and  returns  as  I  do  ; 
nay,  and  pay  visits,  and  will  even  affect  to  be  jocose  and  force  a 
feeble  laugh  with  me  ;  but  most  commonly  we  sit  alone  together, 
and  are  the  prettiest  insipid  company  in  the  world. 

The  personification  of  lifeless  objects  is  a  natural  tend- 
ency of  the  human  mind,  as  may  be  seen  from  the  talk 
of  young  children.  The  personification  of  abstract  ideas 
is  common  in  poetry  and  is  the  basis  of  all  allegory.  The 
personification  of  animals  is  perhaps  a  survival  of  a  very 


378  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

early  stage  of  culture  when  animals  were  regarded  as  capable 
of  thought  and  speech.    It  is  commonest  in  fables. 

APOSTROPHE 

Apostrophe  (that  is,  "  turning  away ")  is  a  figure  by 
which  the  writer  or  speaker  suddenly  turns  aside  from 
the  course  which  he  is  pursuing  and  addresses  some 
person  or  personified  object.    Thus, — 

What  trash  is  Rome, 
%    What  rubbish  and  what  offal,  when  it  serves 
For  the  base  matter  to  illuminate 
So  vile  a  thing  as  Csesar  !     But,  O  grief, 
Where  hast  thou  led  me  ?     I  perhaps  speak  this 
Before  a  willing  bondman  ;  then  I  know 
My  answer  must  be  made.  — ■  Shakspere. 

Famous  examples  of  apostrophe  are  Byron's  address  to  the  sea 
in  "  Childe  Harold,"  Canto  iv,  stanzas  179-184;  Cowper's  "O 
winter,  ruler  of  the  inverted  year "  in  "  The  Task,"  Book  iv  ; 
Macbeth  to  the  dagger  in  "  Macbeth,"  Act  n,  Scene  1  ;  "  Julius 
Caesar,"  Act  n,  Scene  1,  lines  77-85,  and  Act  in,  Scene  2,  lines  109- 
110.  For  the  same  device  in  prose  see  the  paragraph  beginning 
"  Alas,  poor  Clifford  !  "  at  the  end  of  Chapter  x  of  Hawthorne's 
"  House  of  the  Seven  Gables  " ;  Emerson's  essay  on  "  The  Poet " 
(at  the  end);  "  Silence  and  desolation  are  upon  thy  walls,  proud 
house,"  etc.,  in  Lamb's  "  South-Sea  House." 

ALLEGOKY 

If  a  metaphor  is  developed  at  considerable  length,  the 
result  may  be  an  allegorical  tale  or  allegory.  In  such  a  tale, 
the  incidents  are  figurative  and  the  characters  are  usually, 
though  not  always,  personifications. 

An  example  of  a  brief  allegory  may  be  found  on  page 
316.    Other  well-known  instances  are  Addison's  "Vision 


ALLEGORY  379 

of  Mirza"  ("Spectator,"  No.  159)  and  his  "Burdens  of 
Mankind"  ("Spectator,"  Nos.  558  and  559).  The  most 
famous  long  allegories  in  English  are  Spenser's  "  Faerie 
Queene "  and  Bunyau's  «  Pilgrim's  Progress."  But  these 
are  valued  rather  in  spite  of  their  allegorical  intention 
than  because  of  it,  —  "The  Faerie  Queene"  for  its  poet- 
ical beauty  and  "  The  Pilgrim's  Progress  "  for  its  narrative 
skill  and  its  simple  and  vigorous  English.  Allegory  as 
such  is  deservedly  out  of  fashion.  Either  the  moral  pur- 
pose makes  the  plot  and  characters  artificial,  or  else,  if 
the  characters  are  natural  and  the  tale  is  well  told,  we 
disregard  the  allegorical  purpose  altogether,  as  most  of  us 
do  in  reading  Bunyan.  The  device  is  too  mechanical  to 
give  pleasure,  except  in  very  short  stories. 

Now  and  then,  however,  a  subtle  touch  of  allegory 
lends  a  peculiar  charm  to  a  tale.  There  is  a  good  instance 
of  this  kind  of  suggestion  in  "The  Chmiaera,"  in  Haw- 
thorne's "Wonder  Book."  Here  the  veiled  metaphorical 
significance  of  the  different  accounts  of  Pegasus  which 
Bellerophon  receives  from  different  persons,  is  hinted  at 
in  a  single  exquisite  paragraph  :  — 

And  Bellerophon  put  his  faith  in  the  child,  who  had  seen  the 
image  of  Pegasus  in  the  water,  and  in  the  maiden,  who  hail  heard 
him  neigh  so  melodiously,  rather  than  in  the  middle-aged  clown, 
who  believed  only  in  cart-horses,  or  in  the  old  man,  who  had  for- 
gotten the  beautiful  thin--;  of  his  youth. 

The  best  comment  on  this  veiled  allegory  of  Hawthorne's 
is  afforded  by  two  noble  passages  in  Bacon's  essay  "  <  >t 
Youth  and  Age":  — 

The  invention  of  young  men  is  more  lively  than  thai  of  old, 
and  imaginations  stream  into  their  minds  better,  and.  as  ii  were, 
more  divinely. 


380  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

A  certain  rabbin,  upon  the  text,  "  Your  young  men  shall  see 
visions,  and  your  old  men  shall  dream  dreams,"  inferreth  that 
young  men  are  admitted  nearer  to  God  than  old,  because  a  vision 
is  a  clearer  revelation  than  a  dream.  And  certainly,  the  more 
a  man  drinketh  of  the  world,  the  more  it  intoxicateth ;  and  age 
doth  profit  rather  in  the  powers  of  the  understanding  than  in  the 
virtues  of  the  will  and  affections. 


USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  FIGURES 

Similes  and  metaphors,  as  we  have  seen,  are  not  mere 
adornments  of  style ;  they  enhance  the  expressiveness  of 
language.  By  indicating  or  suggesting  comparisons,  they 
make  the  thought  clearer,  and  their  picturesque  quality 
stimulates  the  reader's  attention. 

We  must  be  careful,  however,  not  to  multiply  figures 
of  speech  beyond  what  the  subject  will  bear.  An  excess- 
ively figurative,  or  florid,1  style  is  tiresome  and  in  bad 
taste.  Display  is  as  objectionable  in  language  as  in  dress. 
Far-fetched  or  over-ingenious  figures  are  also  to  be  avoided, 
and  the  same  is  true  of  those  that  are  commonplace  or 
hackneyed.  If  one's  imagination  is  awake,  figures  will 
suggest  themselves  spontaneously.  If  they  have  to  be 
fished  for,  or  painfully  thought  out,  they  are  not  likely  to 
be  worth  the  trouble. 

We  should  also  test  the  accuracy  and  soundness  of  a 
figure  before  using  it  in  composition.  If  the  comparison 
on  which  it  depends  is  unreal  or  fantastic,  the  figure  will 
darken  the  subject  instead  of  illuminating  it.  Weak  and 
ineffectual  figures  are  called  "  frigid " ;  figures  that  are 
exaggerated  and  at  the  same  time  inappropriate,  are  called 
"  bombastic."     The  extract  from  Sylvester  criticised  by 

i  That  is,  "flowery." 


USE  AND  ABUSE  OF  FIGURES  381 

Dryden  in  the  following  passage  illustrates  both  faults, — 
frigidity  and  bombast :  — 

"When  men  affect  a  virtue  -which  they  cannot  easily  reach,  they 
fall  into  a  vice  which  bears  the  nearest  resemblance  to  it.  Thus 
an  injudicious  poet  who  aims  at  loftiness,  runs  easily  into  the 
swelling,  puffy  style,  because  it  looks  like  greatness.  I  remember, 
when  I  was  a  boy,  I  thought  inimitable  Spenser  a  mean  poet  in 
comparison  of  Sylvester's  Dubartas,  and  was  rapt  into  an  ecstasy 
when  I  read  these  lines  :  — 

"  Xow,  when  the  winter's  keener  breath  began 
To  crystallize  the  Baltic  ocean. 
To  glaze  the  lakes,  to  bridle  up  the  floods, 
And  periwig  with  snow  the  bald-pate  woods." 

I  am  much  deceived  if  this  be  not  abominable  fustian,  that  is, 
thoughts  and  words  ill-sorted,  and  without  the  least  relation  to 
each  other. 

A  figure  should  be  consistent  with  itself.  Careless 
writers  frequently  run  two  or  three  discordant  metaphors 
into  one,  without  regard  to  their  incongruity. 

Thus,  a  headlong  orator,  in  denouncing  his  opponent,  once 
cried  out,  "We  must  bring  the  viper  to  his  knees."  The  bewil- 
dering maze  of  figures  in  the  passage  that  follows  was  noticed  in 
a  recent  newspaper:  "When  Mr.  Hay  began  his  work  in  1899, 
the  open  door  was  an  elusive  dream.  He  crystallized  it  into 
form,  and  added  to  it  the  integrity  of  China,  the  preservation  of 
which  is  now  solemnly  guaranteed  by  five  great  powers." 

Such  inconsistent  metaphors  are  said  to  be  "  mixed." 

Faulty  combination  of  figures  is  a  delicate  subject, 
since  everybody  knows  that  the  poets  mix  metaphors 
without  scruple.  It  is  easy,  however,  to  make  a  dis- 
tinction. The  beat  of  a  poet's  imagination  may  fuse 
two  metaphors  so  that  their  original  incongruity  is  no 
brn^er  perceived.    But  the  mixed  metaphors  of  unpractised 


382  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

writers  are  not  of  this  kind.  They  come,  not  from  imagi- 
native strength,  but  from  defective  vision,  —  from  a  failure 
to  perceive  the  exact  meaning  of  the  several  words.  Besides, 
great  authors  may  take  liberties  which  beginners  cannot 
justly  claim.  The  following  passage  from  "Macbeth" 
contains  a  mixed  metaphor  which  no  one  would  be  bold 

enough  to  censure  :  — 

I  have  no  spur 
To  prick  the  sides  of  my  intent,  but  only 
Vaulting  ambition,  which  o'erleaps  itself 
And  falls  on  the  other  side. 

Here  Macbeth  begins  by  speaking  of  his  intent  to  murder 
Duncan  as  a  horse  which  needs  the  spur,  and  by  declaring  that 
he  has  no  such  spur  (or  incentive)  to  commit  the  crime  except 
his  ambition;  but  he  goes  on  to  describe  this  same  ambition  under 
the  figure  of  a  would-be  rider  who  overleaps  himself  in  trying  to 
vault  into  the  saddle  and  gets  a  disastrous  fall.  The  first  figure  is 
not  finished  before  the  second  is  begun. 


SYNONYMS  AND  ANTONYMS 

The  English  language  is  rich  in  synonyms,  —  that  is,  in 
different  words  for  the  same  idea. 

Thus,  instead  of  fatigued  (p.  12),  Franklin  might  have  said 
tired,  worn  out,  exhausted,  used  up,  or  weary ;  for  walked  he  might 
have  said  went,  proceeded,  strolled,  or  sauntered,  — and  so  on.  In 
each  case,  one  of  the  other  words  mentioned  would  have  expressed 
almost  the  same  idea,  but  with  some  slight  difference  of  meaning. 

Franklin  used  stuffed  out  (p.  12)  rather  than  filed  in  order  to 
suggest  his  awkward  and  uncouth  appearance.  He  wrote  ivalked, 
rather  than  sauntered  or  strolled,  because  he  wished  to  refer  merely 
to  his  moving  up  the  street,  rather  than  to  call  attention  to  his 
gait  or  manner.  In  every  instance  he  selected,  out  of  a  number 
of  synonyms,  that  particular  one  which  would  express  the  precise 
shade  of  meaning  that  he  desired  to  convey. 


SYNONYMS  AND  ANTONYMS        383 

Synonymous  words  seldom  have  exactly  the  same  signifi- 
cation. Even  if  there  is  no  real  difference  in  meaning, 
there  is  almost  always  a  difference  in  emphasis,  or  in 
expressiveness,  or  in  the  associations  winch  the  words 
suggest  (see  p.  368). 

A  knowledge  of  synonyms,  then,  and  of  their  distinc- 
tions is  absolutely  necessary  in  every  kind  of  composition ; 
for  without  such  knowledge  we  cannot  put  our  thoughts 
and  feelings  into  vivid  and  appropriate  language. 

Words  of  opposite  meaning  are  called  antonyms.  Thus, 
weak  and  strong,  crafty  and  simple,  empty  and  full,  are 
antonyms.  The  antonym  is  the  opposite  of  the  synonym. 
In  comparing  one  object  or  person  with  another,  we  observe 
both  likeness  and  differences.  When  we  observe  similarity 
in  the  objects  compared,  the  synonym  comes  to  our  aid, 
preventing  tiresome  repetitions.  When  we  contrast  objects 
and  note  characteristics  in  which  they  differ,  we  need  the 
antonym  to  make  our  meaning  clear. 

Examples  of  synonyms  and  antonyms  may  be  seen  in 
the  following  extracts  :  — 

1.  Hurry,  bustle,  and  agitation  are  the  never-failing  symptoms 
of  a  weak  and  frivolous  mind.  —  Chesterfield. 

2.  This  is  drollery  rather  than  humor.  —  Cahi.yle. 

3.  Griffiths  was  a  hard  business  man,  of  shrewd,  worldly  good 
sense,  but  little  refinement  or  cultivation.  —  Irving. 

4.  Between  excess  and  famine  lies  a  mean  ; 

Plain,  but  not  sordid;  though  not  splendid,  clean.-     Pope. 

5.  Generosity  often  runs  into  profusion,  economy  into  avarice, 
courage  into  rashness,  caution  into  timidity,  and  so  on. 

Chesterfield. 

6.  A  man  is  but  an  ill  husband  of  his  honor  that  entereth 
into  any  action  the  failing  wherein  may  disgrace  him  more  than 
the  carrying  of  it,  through  can  honor  him.  —  Bacon. 

7.  The  way  before  yon  is  intricate,  dark,  and  full  of  perplexed 
and  treacherous  mazes.       Burke. 


384  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

8.  It  was  the  disposition  of  Markham  Everard  to  be  hot,  keen, 
earnest,  impatient,  and  decisive  to  a  degree  of  precipitation. 

Scott. 

9.  Tories  reviled  and  insulted  Russell  as  his  coach  passed  from 
the  Tower  to  the  scaffold.  —  Macaulay. 

10.  Discoverers  of  truth  are  generally  sober,  modest,  and 
humble ;  and,  if  their  discoveries  are  less  valued  by  mankind 
than  they  deserve  to  be,  can  bear  the  disappointment  with 
patience  and  equality  of  temper.  But  hasty  reasoners  and  con- 
fident asserters  are  generally  wedded  to  an  hypothesis,  and,  trans- 
ported with  joy  at  their  fancied  acquisitions,  are  impatient  under 
contradiction,  and  grow  wild  at  the  thoughts  of  a  refutation. 

COWPER. 

For  other  examples  see  the  passages  quoted  on  pages 
330-331.  For  lists  of  synonyms  and  antonyms,  and  for 
exercises,  see  pages  436-437,  440-442. 

CONCISENESS 

A  vigorous  style x  is  almost  always  concise.  We  should 
use  words  enough  to  express  our  thoughts  and  feelings 
fully  and  clearly,  but  should  aim  at  brevity  in  the  body 
of  our  essays  and  should  stop  when  we  get  through. 
Verbosity  is  the  most  tiresome  of  rhetorical  faults.  "  An 
author,"  says  Dryden,  "  is  not  to  write  all  he  can,  but  only 
all  he  ought." 

It  is  good  practice  to  go  over  a  passage  that  we  have 
written  and  strike  out  all  the  words  that  are  not  essential 
to  the  thought.  This  process  may  leave  the  passage  rough 
and  abrupt,  and  unfit  for  presentation;  but  the  object 
lesson  in  conciseness  will  be  valuable.  We  shall  probably 
be  surprised  at  the  small  number  of  words  that  are  abso- 
lutely necessary. 

i  A  vigorous  style  is  often  called  nervous  (from  the  Latin  nervus, 
"  sinew"). 


CONCISENESS  385 

In  many  cases,  the  statement  of  one  fact  necessarily 
implies  other  facts,  which  it  is  superfluous  to  mention, 
except  sometimes  for  the  sake  of  emphasis.  For  example, 
if  we  say  that  "  the  day  is  bright,"  we  need  not  add  that 
"  the  sky  is  blue  "  ;  and  if  we  have  said  that  "the  teamster 
beat  his  horses,"  we  may  take  it  for  granted  that  he  was 
cruel.  In  condensing,  we  should  bear  in  mind  the  possi- 
bility of  rearranging  the  sentences  so  as  to  bring  the  less 
important  facts  into  subordinate  clauses.  A  fact  or  an 
idea  which  is  not  valuable  enough  to  have  a  sentence  to 
itself,  may  be  worth  keeping  in  a  less  conspicuous  position. 

Excessive  brevity  may  result  in  obscurity  or  abruptness. 
A  telegram  is  typical  of  brevity,  for  it  dispenses  with 
everything  but  the  mere  skeleton  of  expression ;  but  we 
all  know  that  telegrams  are  frequently  ambiguous  and  that 
they  are  seldom  smooth  or  elegant  in  style.  We  should 
strive  to  write  tersely,1  —  that  is,  with  polished  conciseness, 
but  we  should  omit  nothing  that  enriches  the  thought  or 
that  aids  the  reader's  understanding  and  stimulates  his 
attention.  Mere  excision  of  redundant  words  does  not 
make  a  style  terse :  rearrangement  and  polishing  are  also 
necessary. 

The  degree  of  conciseness  must  vary  with  the  nature 
of  the  subject  and  with  the  effect  that  we  wish  to  pro- 
duce. A  leisurely  style  is  appropriate  to  certain  topics 
and  kinds  of  writing.    Thus,  — 

I  love  to  search  out  the  sunny  slopes  under  some  northern 
shelter  where  the  reflected  sun  does  double  duty  to  the  earth, 
and  where  the  frail  hepatica,  or  the  faint  blush  of  the  arbutus, 
in  the  midst  of  the  bleak  March  atmosphere,  will  touch  your 
heart,  like  a  hope  of  heaven  in  a  lidd  of  graves.  —  Ik  Marvel. 

1  Ter.se  is  often  misused  as  a  synonym  for  short  or  pithy.  It  is  de- 
rived from  the  Latin  tersus, " polished,"  and  it  implies  finish  as  well  as 
conciseness. 


386  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

This  might  be  cut  down  to  — 

I  like  the  slopes  protected  from  the  north  where  the  reflected 
sun  brings  out  the  hepatica  and  the  arbutus  in  March. 

Such  treatment,  however,  would  spoil  the  beauty  of  the 
passage.  The  bare  outline  of  the  thought  would  alone 
be  left;  all  the  sentiment  and  imaginative  suggestion  of 
the  original  would  be  destroyed.  Here,  again,  we  must  be 
guided  by  the  principles  of  appropriateness  and  expressive- 
ness. The  actual  number  of  words  can  be  determined  only 
by  the  purpose  of  the  writer. 

The  natural  tendency  of  the  English  language  is  to  be 
copious  and  discursive.  We  should  be  on  our  guard,  there- 
fore, against  yielding  to  this  tendency  overmuch,  or  on 
inappropriate  occasions.  Few  writers,  young  or  old,  are 
in  any  danger  of  being  too  concise. 

REPETITION 

Repetition  is  a  natural  tendency  of  language.  We  may 
often  emphasize  an  idea,  and  make  it  clearer  and  easier 
to  grasp,  by  presenting  it  from  different  points  of  view 
and  in  varying  terms. 

Note  the  repetition  in  the  following  passage :  — 

In  order  that  a  new  world  may  step  in,  this  world  must  for  a 
time  disappear.  The  murderers,  and  the  murder,  must  be  insu- 
lated —  cut  off  by  an  immeasurable  gulf  from  the  ordinary  tide 
and  succession  of  human  affairs  —  locked  up  and  sequestered  in 
some  deep  recess;  we  must  be  made  sensible  that  the  world  of 
ordinary  life  is  suddenly  arrested  —  laid  asleep  —  tranced  — 
racked  into  a  dread  armistice  ;  time  must  be  annihilated ;  relation 
to  things  without,  abolished ;  and  all  must  pass  self-withdrawn 
into  a  deep  syncope  and  suspension  of  earthly  passion. 

De  Quincey. 


REPETITION  387 

Compare  the  beginning  of  Macbeth's  soliloquy  :  — 

If  it  were  done  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly  :  if  the  assassination 
Could  trammel  up  the  consequence,  and  catch, 
With  his  surcease,  success  ;  that  but  this  blow 
flight  be  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  here,- — 
But  here,  upon  this  bank  and  shoal  of  time,  — 
We  'd  jump  the  life  to  come. 

Here  the  single  thought  in  Macbeth's  mind  is,  "  If  the 
murder  and  all  that  it  involves  were  done  with  when  the 
blow  is  struck,  then  the  sooner  I  kill  Duncan  the  better." 
This  thought  is  expressed  literally,  in  the  first  clause,  and 
then  is  dwelt  on,  in  varying  figures  of  speech,  till  the  end 
of  the  passage. 

Expository  writing  makes  frequent  use  of  repetition,  as  in 
the  following  paragraph  from  Matthew  Arnold  :  — 

And  because  men  are  all  members  of  one  great  whole,  and  the 
sympathy  which  is  in  human  nature  will  not  allow  one  member 
to  be  indifferent  to  the  rest,  or  to  have  a  perfect  welfare  inde- 
pendent of  the  rest,  the  expansion  of  our  humanity,  to  suit  the 
idea  of  perfection  which  culture  forms,  must  be  a  general  expan- 
sion. Perfection,  as  culture  conceives  it,  is  not  possible  while  the 
individual  remains  isolated.  The  individual  is  required,  under 
pain  of  being  stunted  and  enfeebled  in  his  own  development  if  he 
disobeys,  to  carry  others  along  with  him  in  his  march  towards 
perfection,  to  be  continually  doing  all  he  can  to  enlarge  and 
increase  the  volume  of  the  human  stream  sweeping  thitherward. 
And  here,  once  more,  culture  lays  on  us  the  same  obligation  as 
religion,  which  says,  as  Bishop  Wilson  has  admirably  put  it.  that 
"to  promote  the  kingdom  of  God  is  to  increase  and  hasten  one's 
own  happiness." 

The  gist  of  the  paragraph  might  be  given  in  a  single 
sentence:  "Culture  in  the  individual  cannot  I"'  separated 
from  culture  in  the  race."    This  thought  Ls  repeated  several 


388  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

times,  with  variations,  until  it  becomes  perfectly  clear  in 
its  application  and  finds  permanent  lodgement  in  the 
reader's  mind.1 

Excessive  and  purposeless  repetition  is  a  tiresome  fault. 
Such  repetition  is  called  tautology,  —  that  is,  "  saying  the 
same  thing  over  again." 

Common  tautologous  phrases  are  :  — funeral  obsequies,  kill  him 
dead,  food  and  sustenance,  trouble  and  annoyance,  blood  and  gore, 
quarrelling  and  disputing,  first  beginning,  final  (or  last)  end,  final 
outcome,  new  and  novel,  brave  and  daring,  sure  and  certain,  weak 
and  feeble. 

Many  similar  phrases  are  established  idioms :  as,  —  end  and 
aim,  without  let  or  hindrance,  goods  and  chattels,  act  and  deed,  pur- 
pose or  end,  ways  and  means,  over  and  done  with,  free  and  clear,  safe 
and  sound. 

Repetition,  then,  though  of  great  utility  when  skilfully 
managed,  is  often  a  serious  fault.  The  only  test  by  which 
we  can  determine  whether  a  word  is  actually  redundant  is 
to  observe  whether  it  can  be  spared  without  loss.  Com- 
mon sense  prescribes  that  we  should  use  only  such  words 
as  are  needed  to  produce  the  effect  intended  in  each  case. 
In  such  a  sentence  as  "  He  fell  down  and  jumped  up 
again,"  doivn  and  again  are  not  redundant ;  for  without 
them  the  sentence  lacks  emphasis  and  expressiveness.  So, 
in  "  I  saw  it  with  my  own  eyes"  the  italicized  phrase 
makes  the  statement  more  personal  and  forcible.  On  the 
other  hand,  the  phrases  quoted  in  the  second  paragraph  on 
tMs  page  are  plain  examples  of  redundancy,  for  the  tau- 
tologous words  may  be  omitted  without  loss  and  with  a 
manifest  gain  in  vigor. 

Redundancy  is  also  called  pleonasm. 

1  This  method  of  constructing  a  paragraph  hy  repetition  of  the  topic 
sentence  in  various  forms  is  a  favorite  device  with  Matthew  Arnold,  who 
is,  indeed,  somewhat  over-fond  of  it.    See  also  p.  307. 


MEANS  OF  ENLARGING  ONE'S  VOCABULARY    389 

MEANS  OF  ENLARGING  ONE'S  VOCABULARY 

As  our  knowledge  increases  and  we  have  occasion  to 
express  our  thoughts  on  a  greater  variety  of  subjects,  we 
feel  the  need  of  a  greater  stock  of  words.  Wide  and  atten- 
tive reading  is  the  best  way  to  enlarge  one's  vocabulary,  but 
there  are  special  means  that  assist  to  the  same  end. 

Some  great  writers  have  been  fond  of  studying  the 
dictionary;  many  people  make  lists  of  new  words  that 
they  hear  or  come  across  in  books.  Another  good  plan  is 
to  find  synonyms  for  common  words.  Still  another  is  to 
play  a  kind  of  game  in  which,  as  you  go  along  the  street, 
you  try  to  tit  each  house,  or  person,  or  animal  that  you 
see,  with  an  apt  word  or  phrase.  A  great  French  writer 
once  told  a  young  man  that  to  attain  a  perfect  mastery  of 
style  he  must  be  able  to  find  a  separate  phrase  for  every 
cab-horse  in  Paris. 

Study  of  a  foreign  language  is  an  excellent  means  of 
enlarging  your  English  vocabulary,  if  you  are  willing  to 
take  pains  with  your  translations.    When  you  look  up 
a  Latin  or  French  or  German  word  in  your  dictionary, 
do  not  rest  satisfied  with  the  first  meaning  you  come  to, 
or  with  the  first  that  will  satisfy  your  immediate  needs. 
Read  through  all  the  meanings,  so  that  you  may  get  a 
feeling  for  the  sense  of  the  word  in  question.    Thus  you 
will  increase  your  command  of  the  foreign  language,  and 
will  add  to  your  English  vocabulary  at  the  same  time.    Li 
translating,  try  to  find  the  word  or  phrase  which  best 
expresses  the  exact   shad.-   of   meaning  of  the   original. 
Note  differences  of  idiom,  and  endeavor  to  reproduce  in  Eng- 
lish the  tone  and  style  of  the  passage  that  you  are  render- 
ing.   A  bald  and  literal  version  misrepresents  the  original 
and  is  likely  to  be  bad  English  as  well. 


390  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

One  thing  is  always  necessary  in  the  attempt  to  increase 
one's  vocabulary,  and  that  is  attention.  If  your  niincl  is 
on  the  alert,  every  book  that  you  read  and  every  sensible 
conversation  in  which  you  engage  may  add  to  your  stock. 
Cultivate  a  quick  ear  and  a  ready  eye  for  new  words, 
and  an  intelligent  curiosity  about  their  meaning  and  their 
origin.  Such  an  interest  will  do  much  to  fix  them  in  your 
mind.  Whenever  you  make  the  acquaintance  of  a  new 
subject,  familiarize  yourself  with  the  vocabulary  needed 
to  discuss  it  properly.  Thus  your  vocabulary  and  your 
knowledge  will  always  stand  in  a  proper  relation  to 
each  other. 

CLEARNESS 

Our  study  of  composition  has  passed  in  review  the 
different  kinds  of  writing  and  has  considered  the  special 
principles  and  methods  of  each,  as  well  as  the  requirements 
which  apply  to  them  all  alike.  Of  all  these  general  require- 
ments none  is  of  such  primary  importance  as  clearness  (or 
perspicuity),  for  without  this  quality  there  can  be  no  real 
expression  of  thought. 

The  most  serious  offence  against  clearness  is  ambiguity, 
—  that  is,  the  use  of  language  that  may  be  taken  in  more 
senses  than  one.  Ambiguity  may  result  from  an  unskilful 
choice  of  words,  from  confusion  of  grammatical  construc- 
tions, or  from  a  faulty  arrangement  of  the  sentence.  We 
should  therefore  give  particular  heed  to  our  pronouns  (espe- 
cially he,  it,  who,  and  which)  and  to  the  position  of  every 
modifying  phrase  or  clause  (see  p.  449). 

Even  when  our  language  is  not  ambiguous,  it  may  be 
vague,  obscure,  or  so  involved  as  to  be  difficult  to  follow. 
Unless  we  think  clearly,  we  cannot  write  clearly;  but  when 


ILLUSTRATIVE   SELECTIONS  391 

our  thoughts  are  clear,  we  can  always  express  them  intel- 
ligibly if  we  are  willing  to  take  pains  enough.  Hence  we 
should  criticise  our  own  style  mercilessly,  revise  with  ex- 
treme care,  and  never  be  satisfied  until  we  feel  sure  that 
nobody  can  help  understanding  what  we  have  written. 
When  we  have  once  learned  to  write  clearly,  the  chances 
are  that  force  and  elegance  are  within  our  reach.  At  all 
events,  we  have  accomplished  the  main  end  of  composition 
as  a  practical  art. 

ILLUSTRATIVE  SELECTIONS 

The  extracts  on  pages  391-400  afford  good  examples  of 
paragraphing,  of  sentence  structure,  and  of  words  effec- 
tively used. 

I.    TANGLE  WOOD  PORCH1 
By  Hawthorne 

Beneath  the  porch  of  the  country-seat  called  Tanglewood,  one 
fine  autumnal  morning,  was  assembled  a  merry  party  of  little 
folks,  with  a  tall  youth  in  the  midst  of  them.  They  had  planned 
a  nutting  expedition,  and  were  impatiently  waiting  for  the  mists 
to  roll  up  the  hill-slopes,  and  for  the  sun  to  pour  the  warmth  of 
the  Indian  summer  over  the  fields  and  pastures,  and  into  the  nooks 
of  the  many-colored  woods.  There  was  a  prospect  of  as  fine  a  day 
as  ever  gladdened  the  aspect  of  this  beautiful  and  comfortable 
world.  As  yet,  however,  the  morning  mist  filled  up  the  whole 
length  and  breadth  of  the  valley,  above  which,  on  a  gently  sloping 
eminence,  the  mansion  stood. 

This  body  of  white  vapor  extended  to  within  less  than  a  hun- 
dred yards  of  the  house.  It  completely  hid  everything  beyond 
that  distance,  except  a  few  ruddy  or  yellow  tree-tops,  which  here 
and  there  emerged,  and  were  glorified  by  the  early  sunshine,  as 
was  likewise  the  broad  surface  of  the  mist.    Four  or  five  miles 

1  From  "  A  Wonder-Book  for  Girls  and  Boys." 


392  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

off  to  the  southward  rose  the  summit  of  Monument  Mountain,  and 
seemed  to  be  floating  on  a  cloud.  Some  fifteen  miles  farther 
away,  in  the  same  direction,  appeared  the  loftier  Dome  of  Taconic, 
looking  blue  and  indistinct,  and  hardly  so  substantial  as  the 
vapory  sea  that  almost  rolled  over  it,  The  nearer  hills,  which 
bordered  the  valley,  were  half  submerged,  and  were  specked  with 
little  cloud-wreaths  all  the  way  to  their  tops.  On  the  whole,  there 
was  so  much  cloud,  and  so  little  solid  earth,  that  it  had  the  effect 

of  a  vision. 

The  children  above-mentioned,  being  as  full  of  life  as  they 
could  hold,  kept  overflowing  from  the  porch  of  Tanglewood,  and 
scampering  along  the  gravel  walk,  or  rushing  across  the  dewy 
herbage  of  the  lawn.    I  can  hardly  tell  how  many  of  these  small 
people  there  were ;  not  less  than  nine  or  ten,  however,  nor  more 
than  a  dozen,  of  all  sorts,  sizes,  and  ages,  whether  girls  or  boys. 
They  were  brothers,  sisters,  and  cousins,  together  with  a  few  of 
their  young  acquaintances,  who  had  been  invited  by  Mr.  and  Mrs. 
Pringle  to  spend  some  of  this  delightful  weather  with  their  own 
children,  at  Tanglewood.    I  am  afraid  to  tell  you  their  names,  or 
even  to  give  them  any  names  which  other  children  have  ever  been 
called  by ;  because,  to  my  certain  knowledge,  authors  sometimes 
get  themselves  into  great  trouble  by  accidently  giving  the  names 
of  real  persons  to  the  characters  in  their  books.    For  this  reason, 
I  mean  to  call  them  Primrose,  Periwinkle,  Sweet  Fern,  Dandelion, 
Blue  Eye,  Clover,  Huckleberry,  Cowslip,  Squash-blossom,  Milkweed, 
Plantain,  and  Buttercup ;  although,  to  be  sure,  such  titles  might 
better  suit  a  group  of  fairies  than  a  company  of  earthly  children. 
It  is  not  to  be  supposed  that  these  little  folks  were  to  be  per- 
mitted by  their  careful   fathers   and  mothers,   uncles,  aunts,  or 
grandparents,  to  stray  abroad  into  the  woods  and  fields,  without 
the  guardianship  of  some  particularly  grave  and  elderly  person. 
O  no,  indeed  !    In  the  first  sentence  of  my  book,  you  will  recollect 
that  I  spoke  of  a  tall  youth,  standing  in  the  midst  of  the  children. 
His  name  —  (and  I  shall  let  you  know  his  real  name,  because  he 
considers  it  a  great  honor  to  have  told  the  stories  that  are  here  to 
be  printed)  —  his  name  was  Eustace  Bright.    He  was  a  student 
at  Williams  College,  and  had  reached,  I  think,  the  venerable  age 
of  eighteen  years ;  so  that  he  felt  quite  like  a  grandfather  towards 
Periwinkle,  Dandelion,  Huckleberry,  Squash-blossom,  Milkweed, 


ILLUSTRATIVE  SELECTIONS  393 

and  the  rest,  who  were  only  half  or  a  third  as  venerable  as  he.  A 
trouble  in  his  eyesight  (such  as  many  students  think  it  necessary 
to  have,  nowadays,  in  order  to  prove  their  diligence  at  their  books) 
had  kept  him  from  college  a  week  or  two  after  the  beginning  of 
the  term.  But,  for  my  part,  I  have  seldom  met  with  a  pair  of 
eyes  that  looked  as  if  they  could  see  farther  or  better  than  those 
of  Eustace  Bright. 

This  learned  student  was  slender,  and  rather  pale,  as  all  Yankee 
students  are ;  but  yet  of  a  healthy  aspect,  and  as  light  and  active 
as  if  he  had  wings  to  his  shoes.  By  the  by,  being  much  addicted 
to  wading  through  streamlets  and  across  meadows,  he  had  put  on 
cowhide  boots  for  the  expedition.  He  wore  a  linen  blouse,  a 
cloth  cap,  and  a  pair  of  green  spectacles,  which  he  had  assumed, 
probably,  less  for  the  preservation  of  his  eyes,  than  for  the  dignity 
that  they  imparted  to  his  countenance.  In  either  case,  however, 
he  might  as  well  have  let  them  alone  ;  for  Huckleberry,  a  mischie- 
vous little  elf,  crept  behind  Eustace  as  he  sat  on  the  steps  of  the 
porch,  snatched  the  spectacles  from  his  nose,  and  clapped  them  on 
her  own  ;  and  as  the  student  forgot  to  take  them  back,  they  fell 
off  into  the  grass,  and  lay  there  till  the  next  spring. 

II.    HOUSEKEEPING 
By  Jane  Welsh  Carlyle  * 

So  many  talents  are  wasted,  so  many  enthusiasms  turned  to 
smoke,  so  many  lives  spoiled  for  want  of  a  little  patience  and 
endurance,  for  want  of  understanding  and  laying  to  heart  the 
meaning  of  the  Present, — for  want  of  recognizing  that  it  is  not 
the  greatness  or  littleness  of  "the  duty  nearest  hand,"  but  the 
spirit  in  which  one  does  it,  that  makes  one's  doing  noble  or  mean  ! 
I  can't  think  how  many  people  who  have  any  natural  ambition 
and  any  sense  of  power  in  them,  escape  going  mad  in  a  world  like 
this  without  the  recognition  of  that.  I  know  I  was  very  near  mad 
when  I  found  it  out  for  myself  (as  one  has  to  find  out  for  one's 
self  everything  that  is  to  be  of  any  real  practical  use  to  one). 

Shall  I  tell  you  how  it  came  into  my  head?  Perhaps  it  may 
be  of  comfort  to  you  in  similar  moments  of  fatigue  and  disgust. 

i  From  a  letter  in  Froude's  "  Life  of  Carlyle,"  Vol.  II,  Chapter  n. 


394  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

I  had  gone  with  my  husband  to  live  on  a  little  estate  of  peat  bog 
that  had  descended  to  me  all  the  way  down  from  John  Welsh, 
the  Covenanter,  who  married  a  daughter  of  John  Knox.  That 
did  n't,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  make  me  feel  Craigenputtock  a  whit 
less  of  a  peat  bog,  and  a  most  dreary,  untoward  place  to  live  at. 
In  fact,  it  was  sixteen  miles  distant  on  every  side  from  all  the 
conveniences  of  life,  —  shops  and  even  post  office.  Further,  we 
were  very  poor,  and  further  (and  worst),  being  an  only  child,  and 
brought  up  to  "  great  prospects,"  I  was  sublimely  ignorant  of 
every  branch  of  useful  knowledge,  though  a  capital  Latin  scholar 
and  very  fair  mathematician. 

It  behooved  me  in  these  astonishing  circumstances  to  learn  to 
sew.  Husbands,  I  was  shocked  to  find,  wore  their  stockings  into 
holes,  and  were  always  losing  buttons,  and  /  was  expected  to 
"  look  to  all  that."  Also  it  behooved  me  to  learn  to  cook  !  no 
capable  servant  choosing  to  live  at  such  an  out-of-the-way  place, 
and  my  husband  having  bad  digestion,  which  complicated  my 
difficulties  dreadfully.  The  bread,  above  all,  brought  from  Dum- 
fries, "  soured  on  his  stomach  "  (O  heaven  ! ),  and  it  was  plainly 
my  duty  as  a  Christian  wife  to  bake  at  home. 

So  I  sent  for  Cobbett's  "  Cottage  Economy,"  and  fell  to  work 
at  a  loaf  of  bread.  But,  knowing  nothing  about  the  process  of 
fermentation  or  the  heat  of  ovens,  it  came  to  pass  that  my  loaf 
got  put  into  the  oven  at  the  time  that  myself  ought  to  have  been 
put  into  bed ;  and  I  remained  the  only  person  not  asleep  in  a 
house  in  the  middle  of  a  desert. 

One  o'clock  struck,  and  then  two,  and  then  three  ;  and  still  I 
was  sitting  there  in  an  immense  solitude,  my  whole  body  aching 
with  weariness,  my  heart  aching  with  a  sense  of  forlornness  and 
degradation.  That  I,  wrho  had  been  so  petted  at  home,  whose 
comfort  had  been  studied  by  everybody  in  the  house,  wdio  had 
never  been  required  to  do  anything  but  cultivate  my  mind,  should 
have  to  pass  all  those  hours  of  the  night  in  watching  a  loaf  of 
bread,  —  which  might  n't  turn  out  bread  after  all  !  Such  thoughts 
maddened  me,  till  I  laid  down  my  head  on  the  table  and  sobbed 
aloud. 

It  was  then  that  somehow  the  idea  of  Benvenuto  Cellini  sitting 
up  all  night  watching  his  Perseus  in  the  furnace  came  into  my 
head,  and  suddenly  I  asked  myself  :  "  After  all,  in  the  sight  of 


ILLUSTRATIVE   SELECTIONS  395 

the  upper  powers,  what  is  the  mighty  difference  between  a  statue 
of  Perseus  and  a  loaf  of  bread,  so  that  each  be  the  thing  that 
one's  hand  has  found  to  do?  The  man's  determined  will,  his 
energy,  his  patience,  his  resource,  were  the  really  admirable  things, 
of  which  his  statue  of  Perseus  was  the  mere  chance  expression. 
If  he  had  been  a  woman  living  at  Craigenputtock,  with  a  dyspep- 
tic husband,  sixteen  miles  from  a  baker,  and  he  a  bad  one,  all 
these  qualities  would  have  come  out  more  fitly  in  a  good  loaf  of 

bread." 

I  cannot  express  what  consolation  this  germ  of  an  idea  spread 
over  my  uncongenial  life  during  the  years  we  lived  at  that  savage 
place,  where  my  two  immediate  predecessors  had  gone  mad,  and 
the  third  had  taken  to  drink. 


III.     THE   SIEGE  OF  ARCOT 1 

By  Macaulay 

Clive  was  now  twenty-five  years  old.  After  hesitating  for 
some  time  between  a  military  and  a  commercial  life,  he  had  at 
length  been  placed  in  a  post  which  partook  of  both  characters, 
that  of  commissary  to  the  troops,  with  the  rank  of  captain.  The 
present  emergency  called  forth  all  his  powers.  He  represented 
to  his  superiors  that,  unless  some  vigorous  effort  were  made, 
Trichinopoly  would  fall,  the  house  of  Anaverdy  Khan  would 
perish,  and  the  French  would  become  the  real  masters  of  the 
whole  peninsula  of  India.  It  was  absolutely  necessary  to  strike 
some  daring  blow.  If  an  attack  were  made  on  Arcot,  the  capital 
of  the  Carnatic,  and  the  favorite  residence  of  the  Nabobs,  it  was 
not  impossible  that  the  siege  of  Trichinopoly  would  be  raised. 
The  heads  of  the  English  settlement,  now  thoroughly  alarmed  by 
the  success  of  Dupleix,  and  apprehensive  that,  in  the  even!  of  a 
new  war  between  France  and  Great  Britain,  Madras  would  be 
instantly  taken  and  destroyed,  approved  of  Clive's  plan,  and 
intrusted  the  execution  of  it  to  himself.  The  young  captain  was 
put  at  the  head  of  two  hundred  English  soldiers,  and  three  hun- 
dred sepoys,  armed  and  disciplined  after  the  European  fashion. 
Of  the  eight  officers  who  coi anded  this  little  force  under  him, 

i  From  the  essay  on  "  Lord  ('live." 


396  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

only  two  had  ever  been  in  action,  and  four  of  the  eight  were 
factors  of  the  Company,  whom  Clive's  example  had  induced  to 
offer  their  services.  The  weather  was  stormy  ;  but  Clive  pushed 
on,  through  thunder,  lightning,  and  rain,  to  the  gates  of  Arcot. 
The  garrison,  in  a  panic,  evacuated  the  fort,  and  the  English 
entered  it  without  a  blow. 

But  Clive  well  knew  that  he  should  not  be  suffered  to  retain 
undisturbed  possession  of  his  conquest.  He  instantly  began  to 
collect  provisions,  to  throw  up  works,  and  to  make  preparations 
for  sustaining  a  siege.  The  garrison,  which  had  fled  at  his 
approach,  had  now  recovered  from  its  dismay,  and,  having  been 
swollen  by  large  reinforcements  from  the  neighborhood  to  a 
force  of  three  thousand  men,  encamped  close  to  the  town.  At 
dead  of  night,  Clive  marched  out  of  the  fort,  attacked  the  camp 
by  surprise,  slew  great  numbers,  dispersed  the  rest,  and  returned 
to  his  quarters  without  having  lost  a  single  man. 

The  intelligence  of  these  events  was  soon  carried  to  Chunda 
Sahib,  who,  with  his  French  allies,  was  besieging  Trichinopoly. 
He  immediately  detached  four  thousand  men  from  his  camp,  and 
sent  them  to  Arcot.  They  were  speedily  joined  by  the  remains 
of  the  force  which  Clive  had  lately  scattered.  They  were  further 
strengthened  by  two  thousand  men  from  Vellore,  and  by  a  still 
more  important  reinforcement  of  a  hundred  and  fifty  French 
soldiers  whom  Dupleix  despatched  from  Pondicherry.  The  whole 
of  this  army,  amounting  to  about  ten  thousand  men,  was  under 
the  command  of  Rajah  Sahib,  son  of  Chunda  Sahib. 

Rajah  Sahib  proceeded  to  invest  the  fort  of  Arcot,  which 
seemed  quite  incapable  of  sustaining  a  siege.  The  walls  were 
ruinous,  the  ditches  dry,  the  ramparts  too  narrow  to  admit  the 
guns,  the  battlements  too  low  to  protect  the  soldiers.  The  little 
garrison  had  been  greatly  reduced  by  casualties.  It  now  consisted 
of  a  hundred  and  twenty  Europeans  and  two  hundred  sepoys. 
Only  four  officers  were  left ;  the  stock  of  provisions  was  scanty ; 
and  the  commander,  who  had  to  conduct  the  defence  under  cir- 
cumstances so  discouraging,  was  a  young  man  of  five  and  twenty, 
who  had  been  bred  a  bookkeeper. 

During  fifty  days  the  siege  went  on.  During  fifty  days  the 
young  captain  maintained  the  defence,  with  a  firmness,  vigi- 
lance, and  ability  which  would  have  done  honor  to  the  oldest 


ILLUSTRATIVE  SELECTIONS  397 

marshal  in  Europe.  The  breach,  however,  increased  day  by  day. 
The  garrison  began  to  feel  the  pressure  of  hunger.  Under  such 
circumstances,  any  troops  so  scantily  provided  with  officers  might 
have  been  expected  to  show  signs  of  insubordination  ;  and  the 
danger  was  peculiarly  great  in  a  force  composed  of  men  differing 
widely  from  each  other  in  extraction,  color,  language,  manners, 
and  religion.  But  the  devotion  of  the  little  band  to  its  chief 
surpassed  anything  that  is  related  of  the  Tenth  Legion  of  Caesar, 
or  of  the  Old  Guard  of  Napoleon.  The  sepoys  came  to  Clive, 
not  to  complain  of  their  scanty  fare,  but  to  propose  that  all  the 
grain  should  be  given  to  the  Europeans,  who  required  more 
nourishment  than  the  natives  of  Asia.  The  thin  gruel,  they  said, 
which  was  strained  away  from  the  rice,  would  suffice  for  them- 
selves. History  contains  no  more  touching  instance  of  military 
fidelity,  or  of  the  influence  of  a  commanding  mind. 

An  attempt  made  by  the  government  of  Madras  to  relieve  the 
place  had  failed.  But  there  was  hope  from  another  quarter.  A 
body  of  six  thousand  Mahrattas,  half  soldiers,  half  robbers,  under 
the  command  of  a  chief  named  Morari  Row,  had  been  hired  to 
assist  Mohammed  Ali ;  but,  thinking  the  French  power  irresistible, 
and  the  triumph  of  Chunda  Sahib  certain,  they  had  hitherto 
remained  inactive  on  the  frontiers  of  the  Carnatic.  The  fame  of 
the  defence  of  Arcot  roused  them  from  their  torpor.  Morari 
Row  declared  that  he  had  never  before  believed  that  Englishmen 
could  fight,  but  that  he  would  willingly  help  them  since  he  saw 
that  they  had  spirit  to  help  themselves.  Rajah  Sahib  learned 
that  the  Mahrattas  were  in  motion.  It  was  necessary  for  him  to 
be  expeditious.  He  first  tried  negotiation.  He  offered  large 
bribes  to  Clive,  which  were  rejected  with  scorn.  He  vowed  that, 
if  his  proposals  were  not  accepted,  he  would  instantly  storm  the 
fort,  and  put  every  man  in  it  to  the  sword.  Clive  told  him  in 
reply,  with  characteristic  haughtiness,  that  his  father  was  an 
usurper,  that  his  army  was  a  rabble,  and  that  he  would  do 
well  to  think  twice  before  he  sent  such  poltroons  into  a  breach 
defended  by  English  soldiers. 

Rajah  Sahib  determined  to  storm  the  fort.  The  day  was  well 
suited  to  a  bold  military  enterprise.  It  was  the  great  Moham- 
medan festival  which  is  sacred  to  the  memory  of  Hosein  the  son 
of  Ali.    The  history  of  Tslam   contains  nothing  more  touching 


398  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

than  the  event  which  gave  rise  to  that  solemnity.  The  mournful 
legend  relates  how  the  chief  of  the  Fatimites,  when  all  his  brave 
followers  had  perished  round  him,  drank  his  latest  draught  of 
water,  and  uttered  his  latest  prayer,  how  the  assassins  carried  his 
head  in  triumph,  how  the  tyrant  smote  the  lifeless  lips  with  his 
staff,  and  how  a  few  old  men  recollected  with  tears  that  they  had 
seen  those  lips  pressed  to  the  lips  of  the  Prophet  of  God.  After 
the  lapse  of  near  twelve  centuries,  the  recurrence  of  this  solemn 
season  excites  the  fiercest  and  saddest  emotions  in  the  bosoms  of 
the  devout  Moslems  of  India.  They  work  themselves  up  to  such 
agonies  of  rage  and  lamentation  that  some,  it  is  said,  have  given 
up  the  ghost  from  the  mere  effect  of  mental  excitement.  They 
believe  that  whoever,  during  this  festival,  falls  in  arms  against 
the  infidels,  atones  by  his  death  for  all  the  sins  of  his  life,  and 
passes  at  once  to  the  garden  of  the  Houris.  It  was  at  this  time 
that  Rajah  Sahib  determined  to  assault  Arcot.  Stimulating- 
drugs  were  employed  to  aid  the  effect  of  religious  zeal,  and  the 
besiegers,  drunk  with  enthusiasm,  drunk  with  bang,  rushed  furi- 
ously to  the  attack. 

Clive  had  received  secret  intelligence  of  the  design,  had  made 
his  arrangements,  and,  exhausted  by  fatigue,  had  thrown  him- 
self on  his  bed.  He  was  awakened  by  the  alarm,  and  was 
instantly  at  his  post.  The  enemy  advanced,  driving  before  them 
elephants  whose  foreheads  were  armed  with  iron  plates.  It  was 
expected  that  the  gates  would  yield  to  the  shock  of  these  living 
battering-rams.  But  the  huge  beasts  no  sooner  felt  the  English 
musket-balls  than  they  turned  round,  and  rushed  furiously  away, 
trampling  on  the  multitude  which  had  urged  them  forward.  A 
raft  was  launched  on  the  water  which  filled  one  part  of  the  ditch. 
Clive,  perceiving  that  his  gunners  at  the  post  did  not  understand 
their  business,  took  the  management  of  a  piece  of  artillery  him- 
self, and  cleared  the  raft  in  a  few  minutes.  Where  the  moat 
was  dry,  the  assailants  mounted  with  great  boldness ;  but  they 
were  received  with  a  fire  so  heavy  and  so  well-directed,  that  it 
soon  quelled  the  courage  even  of  fanaticism  and  of  intoxication. 
The  rear  ranks  of  the  English  kept  the  front  ranks  supplied 
with  a  constant  succession  of  loaded  muskets,  and  every  shot 
told  on  the  living  mass  below.  After  three  desperate  onsets, 
the  besiegers  retired  behind  the  ditch. 


ILLUSTRATIVE    SELECTIONS  399 

The  straggle  Listed  about  an  hour.  Four  hundred  of  the 
assailants  fell.  The  garrison  lost  only  five  or  six  men.  The 
besieged  passed  an  anxious  night,  looking  for  a  renewal  of 
the  attack.  But  when  day  broke,  the  enemy  were  no  more  to 
be  seen.  They  had  retired,  leaving  to  the  English  several  guns 
and  a  large  quantity  of  ammunition. 

IV.     THE  DEFINITION  OF  A  GENTLEMAN  i 

By  Newman 

Hence  it  is  that  it  is  almost  a  definition  of  a  gentleman  to  say 
he  is   one  who  never  inflicts    pain.     This   description   is   both 
refined  and,  as  far  as  it  goes,  accurate.    He  is  mainly  occupied 
in    merely  removing  the  obstacles  which    hinder  the  free   and 
unembarrassed  action  of  those  about  him  ;  and  he  concurs  with 
their  movements  rather  than  takes  the  initiative  himself.    His 
benefits  maybe  considered  as  parallel  to  what  are  called  comforts 
or  conveniences  in  arrangements  of  a  personal  nature :  like  an 
easy  chair  or  a  good  fire,  which  do  their  part  in  dispelling  cold 
and   fatigue,   though   nature  provides  both  means  of  rest  and 
animal  heat  without  them.    The  true  gentleman  in  like  manner 
carefully  avoids  whatever  may  cause  a  jar  or  a  jolt  in  the  minds 
of  those  with  whom  he  is  cast,  —  all  clashing  of  opinion,  or  col- 
lision of  feeling,  all  restraint,  or  suspicion,  or  gloom,  or  resent- 
ment; his  great  concern  being  to  make  every  one  at  his  ease 
and  at  home.    He  has  his  eyes  on  all  his  company;  he  is  tender 
towards  the  bashful,  gentle  towards    the  distant,  and  merciful 
towards  the  absurd  ;  he  can  recollect  to  whom  he  is  speaking ;  he 
guards   against    unseasonable    allusions,    or    topics   which    may 
irritate ;    he   is    seldom   prominent    in    conversation,    and    never 
wearisome.    He  makes  light  of  favors  while  he  does  them,  and 
seems  to  be  receiving  when  he  is  conferring.    He  never  speaks  of 
himself  except  when  compelled,  never  defends  himself  by  a  mere 
retort;  he  has  no  ears  for  slander  or  gossip,  is-eorapulous  in  imput- 
ing motives  to  i  hose  wh<>  Interfere  with  him,  and  interprets  every- 
thing for  the  best.    He  is  never  mean  or  little  in  his  disputes, 
never  takes  unfair  advantage,    never   mistakes   personalities   or 

i  From  "The  [dea  of  a  University." 


400  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

sharp  sayings  for  arguments,  or  insinuates  evil  which  he  dare  not 
say  out.  From  a  long-sighted  prudence,  he  observes  the  maxim 
of  the  ancient  sage,  that  we  should  ever  conduct  ourselves  towards 
our  enemy  as  if  he  were  one  day  to  be  our  friend.  He  has  too 
much  good  sense  to  be  affronted  at  insults,  he  is  too  well  employed 
to  remember  injuries,  and  too  indolent  to  bear  malice.  He  is 
patient,  forbearing,  and  resigned,  on  philosophical  principles  ;  he 
submits  to  pain,  because  it  is  inevitable,  to  bereavement,  because 
it  is  irreparable,  and  to  death,  because  it  is  his  destiny. 

If  he  engages  in  controversy  of  any  kind,  his  disciplined  intel- 
lect preserves  him  from  the  blundering  discourtesy  of  better,  per- 
haps, but  less  educated  minds ;  who,  like  blunt  weapons,  tear  and 
hack  instead  of  cutting  clean,  who  mistake  the  point  in  argument, 
waste  their  strength  on  trifles,  misconceive  their  adversary,  and 
leave  the  question  more  involved  than  they  find  it.  He  may  be 
right  or  wrong  in  his  opinion,  but  he  is  too  clear-headed  to  be 
unjust;  he  is  as  simple  as  he  is  forcible,  and  as  brief  as  he  is 
decisive.  Nowhere  shall  we  find  greater  candor,  consideration, 
indulgence :  he  throws  himself  into  the  minds  of  his  opponents, 
he  accounts  for  their  mistakes.  He  knows  the  weakness  of 
human  reason  as  well  as  its  strength,  its  province  and  its  limits 

If  he  be  an  unbeliever,  he  will  be  too  profound  and  large- 
minded  to  ridicule  religion  or  to  act  against  it ;  he  is  too  wise  to 
be  a  dogmatist  or  fanatic  in  his  infidelity.  He  respects  piety  and 
devotion  ;  he  even  supports  institutions  as  venerable,  beautiful,  or 
useful,  to  which  he  does  not  assent ;  he  honors  the  ministers  of 
religion,  and  it  contents  him  to  decline  its  mysteries  without 
assailing  or  denouncing  them.  He  is  a  friend  of  religious  tolera- 
tion, and  that,  not  only  because  his  philosophy  has  taught  him  to 
look  on  all  forms  of  faith  with  an  impartial  eye,  but  also  from  the 
gentleness  and  effeminacy  of  feeling,  which  is  the  attendant  on 
civilization. 


LETTER-WEITING 


INTRODUCTORY 

Most  people  use  what  they  know  of  the  art  of  composition 
more  frequently  in  writing  letters  than  in  any  other  way. 
If  they  are  well-trained  in  this  art,  so  that  they  can  express 
their  thoughts  freely,  clearly,  and  agreeably,  their  letters 
are  likely  to  be  effective  as  well  as  pleasant  to  read.  On 
the  other  hand,  ignorance  or  neglect  of  the  principles  of 
composition  defeats  the  whole  purpose  of  letter-writing. 
An  illegible  and  badly  spelled  letter,  not  divided  into 
paragraphs,  and  defying  every  principle  of  unity,  not  only 
confuses  and  annoys  the  recipient,  but  gives  him  a  poor 
opinion  of  the  writer's  intelligence  and  education. 

Letters  fall  roughly  into  two  mam  classes,  —  business 
letters  and  familiar  (or  friendly)  letters.  The  distinction  is 
due  partly  to  a  difference  in  the  relations  between  the 
writer  and  the  recipient,  but  still  more  to  a  difference  in 
purpose.  A  business  letter  is  usually  a  statement  of  facts  or 
an  exposition  ;  sometimes  it  contains  argument.  A  familiar 
or  friendly  letter  may,  of  course,  be  expository  or  argu- 
mentative, but  it  more  commonly  gives  an  account  of 
one's  own  experiences  or  describes  persons  and  places  that 
one  has  seen.  Thus  it  is  likely  to  use  the  methods  of 
narration  and  description.  There  is,  however,  no  sharp  and 
clear  line  between  the  two  kinds  of  correspondence ;  for 
we  often  have  to  write  to  our  friends  on  business,  and  a 
letter  to  a  stranger  may  contain  narrative  or  descriptive 

401 


402  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

matter.  In  such  cases,  the  difference  is  rather  in  tone  and 
manner  than  in  form  or  contents.  The  relation  between 
the  correspondents  is  always  an  important  consideration 
in  letter-writing. 

THE  PARTS  OF  A  LETTER 

The  principles  which  govern  all  composition  apply  to 
letter-writing.  The  writer  should  have  definitely  in  mind 
what  he  wishes  to  say,  should  make  his  meaning  clear, 
and  should  express  himself  in  a  style  appropriate  to  the 
subject  and  the  occasion.  But  letter-writing  has  also  its 
special  rules  or  conventions  as  to  form  and  arrangement. 
These  rules  derive  their  authority  from  custom,  and  are 
justified  by  their  convenience.  Their  object  is  to  make 
our  letters  intelligible  with  the  least  possible  trouble  to  our 
correspondents.  Certain  forms  are  generally  agreed  upon, 
which  it  is  only  sensible  to  regard.  Short  notes  to  intimate 
friends  may  dispense  with  ceremony,  but  even  in  these 
the  settled  customs  of  letter-writing  are  usually  followed. 
A  letter  consists  of  the  following  parts :  — 
I.  The  heading.  —  This  should  contain  the  writer's  ad- 
dress in  full  and  the  date.    Thus, — 

260  Caroline  St.,  Hobart  College, 

Saratoga,  N.Y.,  Geneva,  N.Y., 

Jan.  7,  1907.  Oct.  8,  1906. 

Waco,  Kansas,  Marshfield,  Mass., 

Feb.  3,  1907.  Dec.  2,  1906. 

For  the  position  of  the  heading,  see  the  letters  on 
pages  408-412.  The  different  items  which  make  up  the 
headings  should  be  kept  together,  as  in  the  examples. 
The  address,  when  it  is  given  in  the  heading,  should  not 
be  repeated  after  the  signature. 


THE  PARTS   OF  A  LETTER  403 

II.  The  salutation.  —  This  takes  various  forms  according 
to  the  relation  between  the  writer  and  the  recipient. 
Thus,  — 

Dear  Madam,  My  dear  Sir, 

j\Iy  dear  Madam,  Dear  Sirs, 

Dear  Sir,  Gentlemen : 

are  appropriate  salutations  in  business  letters. 

Dear  Mr.  Jackson,  My  dear  Mis.  Hatch, 

Dear  Mrs.  Enroll,  My  dear  Miss  Fernald, 

are  proper  in  friendly  letters,  or  in  business  letters  addressed 
to  a  person  whom  one  knows  well 

My  dear  John,  Dear  Edith, 

Dear  James,  Dear  Uncle, 

Dear  Cousin  Mary,  My  dear  Elizabeth, 

are  proper  in  familiar  letters.    "  My  dear  Mrs.  Hatch  "  is 
more  formal  than  "  Dear  Mrs.  Hatch." 

The  salutation  may  be  followed  by  a  comma,  by  a  comma  and 
a  dash,  by  a  colon,  or  by  a  colon  and  a  dash.  The  comma  is  least 
formal.  In  business  letters,  the  colon  (with  or  without  the  dash) 
is  often  preferred,  especially  after  "  Gentlemen." 

For  the  position  of  the  salutation,  see  pages  408-412. 
In  formal  business  letters,  it  is  usual  to  insert  the  name 
and  address  of  the  recipient  before  the  salutation.  See  this 
arrangement  in  No.  1,  on  page  408.  In  more  familiar 
letters,  the  address  is  often  placed  below  the  signature  and 
at  the  left  of  the  page  (as  in  No.  6),  but  it  is  frequently 
omitted  altogether  (as  in  No.  8). 

III.  The  body  of  the  letter.  — This  consists  of  the  message 
itself.  It  should  be  legibly  written,  properly  punctuated, 
and,  unless  it  is  very  short,  divided  into  paragraphs,  each, 
of  which  should  cover  a  single  point  completely. 


404  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

IV.  The  formal  closing.  —  This  is  merely  a  courteous 
phrase,  indicatiug  the  relatiou  in  which  the  writer  stands 
to  his  correspondent.    Thus,  in  business  letters,  — 

Yours  truly,  Yours  sincerely, 

Very  truly  yours,  Sincerely  yours, 

Respectfully  yours,  Very  sincerely  yours. 

Or,  in  familiar  or  affectionate  letters,  — 

Faithfully  yours,  Your  loving  son, 

Yours  cordially,  Yours,  with  love. 

Observe  that  the  forms  given  in  the  first  list  are  not  all 
suitable  for  every  kind  of  business  letter.  "  Yours  truly  " 
or  "  Very  truly  yours  "  will  lit  almost  any  such  letter. 
The  forms  with  "  sincerely  "  are  more  intimate  and  less 
formal ;  they  are  common  in  friendly  letters  of  a  busi- 
ness character,  and  in  other  letters  between  correspondents 
who  are  acquainted,  but  not  necessarily  on  familiar  terms. 
"  Respectfully  yours  "  should  never  be  used  unless  special 
respect  is  intended.  It  is  proper  in  writing  to  a  high  official 
or  to  a  person  much  older  than  one's  self.  In  an  ordinary 
business  letter,  however,  it  should  not  be  used.  It  is  in 
very  questionable  taste,  for  instance,  to  write  "  Yours 
respectfully  "  in  such  a  letter  as  No.  1,  p.  408.  When  in 
doubt,  write  "  Very  truly  yours,"  which  is  always  safe. 

V.  The  signature.  —  Except  in  very  familiar  letters,  this 
is  the  name  of  the  writer  in  the  form  which  he  habitually 
uses  in  signing  a  document. 

When  a  lady  writes  a  business  letter,  she  should  indicate 
whether  she  is  to  be  addressed  as  Miss  or  as  Mrs.  This  information 
may  be  given  by  prefixing  the  title  (in  parentheses)  to  the  signa- 
tm-e:  —  (Miss)  Alice  Atherton  (see  No.  1,  p.  408).  Or  the  proper 
form  may  be  written  below  the  signature,  and  at  the  left  of  the  page. 


BUSINESS  LETTERS  405 

The  signature  should  be  so  clearly  written  that  it  cannot 
be  mistaken.  There  is  no  more  foolish  affectation  than  a 
showy  signature  which  is  hard  to  read. 

VI.  The  superscription  or  the  direction.  —  This  is  written 
on  the  envelope,  and  consists  of  the  name  and  address  of 
the  person  to  whom  the  letter  is  sent. 

Mr.  John  Eliot  Newell 

65  State  Street 

Richmond 

Virginia 

[Or,  —  John  Eliot  Newell,  Esq.] 

Commas  are  not  needed  at  the  ends  of  lines  in  the  super- 
scription, though  they  are  used  in  giving  the  address  inside 
the  letter.  An  abbreviation,  however,  should  of  course  be 
followed  by  a  period  (as  St.  for  Street). 

The  superscription  should  include  the  name,  the  street 
and  number  (or  the  post-office  box),  and  all  other  neces- 
sary details  in  the  conventional  order.  The  address  on 
the  envelope  is  for  the  people  in  the  post  office,  who  have 
to  sort  and  distribute  an  inconceivable  number  of  letters 
every  day.  Bad  handwriting  and  every  deviation  from 
the  regular  order  are  stumbling-blocks  to  them,  and  may 
therefore  result  in  delaying  the  letter. 

BUSINESS  LETTERS 

In  writing  a  business  letter,  you  should  remember  that 
you  are  addressing  a  man  who  has  no  time  to  waste, 
and  who  wants  to  learn  certain  specific  facts  as  quickly 
and  as  accurately  as  possible.  On  the  facts  which  you  set 
before  him  he  will  act,  and  his  action  may  mean  profit  or 
loss  to  both  of  you. 


406  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

A  business  letter  should  therefore  set  forth  the  facts 
which  you  think  the  recipient  ought  to  know,  and  no  other 
facts.  It  should  state  these  facts  as  clearly  and  concisely 
as  possible,  and  should  make  each  separate  fact  stand 
out  distinctly  by  itself,  so  that  it  will  catch  the  reader's 
attention  at  once. 

When  any  explanation  of  the  facts  or  of  their  bearings 
is  necessary,  each  separate  point  should  be  discussed  by 
itself,  and  the  result  of  the  discussion  should  be  explicitly 
stated,  so  that  there  can  be  no  misunderstanding.  If  any 
point  has  to  be  argued,  due  regard  must  be  paid  to  the 
opinions  and  prejudices  of  your  correspondent.  You  must 
look  at  the  case  from  his  point  of  view,  and  try  to  make 
him  see  that  what  you  propose  is  in  accord  with  his  own 
interests ;  otherwise  you  are  not  likely  to  convince  him. 

Brevity  is  of  the  utmost  importance.  Ornament,  elabo- 
ration, and  needless  detail  are  intolerable  in  a  business 
letter.  They  are  "unbusinesslike,"  and  will  give  your 
correspondent  a  poor  opinion  of  you  and  of  what  you  pro- 
pose. In  your  efforts  to  be  brief,  however,  you  should  take 
care  not  to  be  obscure,  and  should  not  omit  any  details 
that  are  really  necessary.  Excessive  brevity  results  in 
abruptness,  which  gives  the  impression  of  haste  or  dis- 
courtesy. The  "  telegraphic  style,"  which  omits  the  pronoun/ 
and  uses  all  kinds  of  shorthand  expressions,  is  in  very  bad  taste 
in  a  letter. 

In  replying  to  a  business  letter,  you  should  first  acknowl- 
edge the  receipt  of  your  correspondent's  letter,  mentioning 
the  date  on  which  it  was  written,  or  giving  some  other 
mark  of  identification.  Any  enclosure  which  your  corre- 
spondent has  made  should  be  duly  acknowledged,  either  by 
the  general  phrase,  "with  enclosures  as  stated,"  or,  in 
more  important  cases,  by  naming  the  enclosures  separately. 


FRIENDLY  LETTERS  407 

It  is  often  wise  to  recite  briefly  the  general  tenor  of  the 
letter  that  you  are  answering.  Then  you  should  take  up 
each  point,  —  if  possible  in  the  order  observed  in  your 
correspondent's  letter;  this  will  make  it  easier  for  both 
parties  to  compare  the  correspondence.  You  should  answer 
directly  and  definitely  such  questions  as  your  correspond- 
ent has  asked,  make  any  explanation  which  seems  neces- 
sary, and  then  go  on  to  any  new  subject  which  you 
wish  to  raise. 

In  business  letters  it  is  well  to  give  a  separate  paragraph 
to  each  of  the  points  on  which  you  are  conveying  informa- 
tion, or  asking  for  information. 

Business  letters  .should  be  answered  by  return  mail  if 
possible.  If  you  can  do  no  more,  you  should  send  a  line 
acknowledging  the  receipt  of  the  letter  and  promising  to 
attend  to  it  immediately. 

FRIENDLY  LETTERS 

Friendly  letters,  as  we  have  seen,  aim  to  do  rather 
more  than  merely  to  convey  information ;  they  aim  to 
give  pleasure  as  well.  In  such  letters,  then,  we  try  to 
write  more  vividly  than  in  ordinary  business  communica- 
tions ;  we  describe  things  that  seem  likely  to  interest  our 
friends,  and  we  tell  amusing  or  exciting  incidents  that 
have  come  to  our  notice.  We  also  express  ourselves  less 
formally  and  with  greater  freedom. 

Since  our  object  in  such  a  letter  is  to  make  some  one 
understand  what  we  are  doing  and  enter  into  our  feelings, 
we  should  always  consider  whether  our  correspondent  is 
already  acquainted  with  the  persons  or  places  that  we  are 
to  mention.  Tf  he  is  not,  we  naturally  give  a  good  deal  of 
our  space  to  describing  them ;  if  he  is,  we  may  come  to 


408  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

the  subject  at  once,  without  any  preliminary  description. 
The  best  guiding  principle  is  to  write  such  letters  as  we 
ourselves  should  like  to  receive. 

SPECIMENS  OF  LETTEE-WRITING 

The  following  examples  illustrate  different  kinds  of 
letter-writing.  Nos.  1-7  are  business  letters  (Nos.  6  and 
7  being  less  formal  than  the  other  five);  Nos.  8-12  are 
familiar  letters  (No.  10  being  a  letter  of  introduction  ad- 
dressed to  a  friend). 

I 

197  Auburn  Street, 

Watertown,  N.Y., 

m  -r,  n  April  7,  1907. 

The  Reynolds  Publishing  Co.,  r 

44  Fifth  Avenue, 

New  York  City. 

Gentlemen  : 

I  enclose  a  check  for  three  dollars  in  renewal  of  my  subscrip- 
tion to  the  "  Empire  State  Review."  Please  note  that  I  have 
changed  my  residence. 

The  new  address  is  197  Auburn  Street,  Watertown,  N.Y. 
The  old  address  was  48  Elm  Avenue,  Watertown,  N.Y. 

Very  truly  yours, 

(Mrs.)  Mary  E.  Harrison. 

Gilmanton,  N.H., 

„      „  t,  rr  March  19,  1907. 

Mr.  Robert  Emerson  Taylor, 

Secretary  of  Monroe  College, 

Camden,  N.Y. 

Dear  Sir  : 

Please    send  me    a  copy    of  the  latest  annual    catalogue    of 

Monroe    College,   together   with   the    pamphlet   describing   the 

college  dormitories.  ,r  , 

°  Very  truly  yours, 

John  W.  Chester. 


SPECIMENS  OF  LETTER-WRITING  409 

III 


Mr.  Robert  Emerson  Taylor, 
Secretary  of  Monroe  College, 
Camden,  N.Y. 


GlLMANTON,  N.  H., 

March  27,  1907. 


Dear  Sir  : 

I  have  received  the  catalogue  which  you  were  kind  enough  to 
send  me  a  few  days  ago,  but  one  point  in  regard  to  the  conditions 
of  admission  is  not  quite  clear  to  me.  I  should  be  greatly  obliged 
if  you  would  tell  me  whether  or  not  a  candidate  who  failed  to 
pass  the  June  examination  in  plane  geometry  would  be  admitted 
to  another  examination  in  the  same  subject  in  the  following 
September. 

Very  truly  yours, 

John  W.  Chester. 

IV 

101  Penn  Avenue, 
Germantown,  Pa., 

July  24,  1907. 
Messrs.  Carter  &  Roberts, 
287  Inman  Street, 
Philadelphia,  Pa. 

Gentlemen  : 

On  Tuesday  last,  and  again  on  Thursday,  our  family  dinner 
was  delayed  half  an  hour  because  the  day's  supply  of  provisions, 
ordered  from  your  market,  failed  to  reach  us  on  time.  On  Satur- 
day, the  sixth  of  this  month,  we  had  to  send  out  to  a  neighbor- 
ing market,  because  your  delivery  clerk  left  the  wrong  order,  and 
on  the  following  Monday  our  provisions  arrived  at  half  past  seven 
in  the  evening. 

I  have  twice  called  your  attention  by  telephone  to  these  annoy- 
ing delays,  and  now  I  feel  compelled  to  say  that,  unless  we  can 
count  on  receiving  our  supplies  regularly  by  five  o'clock  in  the 
afternoon,  we  shall  have  to  place  our  orders  elsewhere.  We  should 
very  much  regret  such  a  necessity,  for  we  have  never  had  occasion 
to  complain  either  of  your  prices  or  of  the  quality  of  your  goods; 


410  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

but  you  will  agree,  I  am  sure,  that  a  continuance  of  the  irregulari- 
ties I  have  described  can  hardly  be  tolerated. 

Very  truly  yours, 

Charles  H.  Hamilton. 

V 

287  Inman  Street, 

Philadelphia, 
Col.  Charles  H.  Hamilton,  July  25,  1907. 

101  Penn  Avenue, 
Germantown,  Pa. 
Dear  Sir: 

We  hasten  to  apologize  for  the  series  of  vexatious  delays  of 
which  you  very  properly  complain  in  your  letter  of  July  24. 
The  delivery  clerk  who  was  responsible  for  these  errors  has  been 
obliged  to  do  the  work  of  two  men  during  the  last  few  weeks, 
owing  to  the  illness  of  three  of  our  other  employees  and  the 
impossibility  of  finding  men  to  fill  their  places.  We  are  glad  to 
say  that  the  difficulty  has  finally  been  adjusted,  however,  so  that 
we  can  guarantee  prompt  service  in  the  future.  AVe  assure  you 
that  we  are  extremely  sorry  for  the  inconvenience  we  have  caused 
you,  for  we  greatly  value  your  patronage. 

Yours  truly, 

Carter  &  Roberts, 
By  J.  W.  R. 

VI 

The  Rockingham, 

Rochester,  N.Y., 

May  14,  1907. 
Dear  Professor  Reed, 

I  have  been  ill  at  home  for  the  last  three  days,  and  I  am  sorry 

to  say  that  Dr.  Arthur  refuses  to  allow  me  to  attend  any  classes 

this  week,  so  that  I  cannot  read  the  report  which  I  was  to  present 

on  Friday.    I  have  prepared  my  paper,  nevertheless,  and  am  now 

sending  it  to  you  by  Miss  AVilson,  who  has  consented  to  read  it 

in  my  place,  if  you  are  willing. 

Sincerely  yours, 

„  T  -r,        t>„  „  Florence  R.  Evans. 

Professor  James  Rice  Reed, 

Dillingham  Institute, 

Rochester,  N.Y. 


SPECIMENS  OF  LETTER-WRITING  411 

VII 

Thursday,  May  2. 
Dear  Miss  Hill, 

This  theme  which  I  am  leaving  on  your  desk  is  the  one  which 
was  due  on  April  25th.  You  were  kind  enough,  you  remember,  to 
allow  me  to  hand  it  in  one  week  late  because  I  broke  my  glasses. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Olive  Richardson. 

Miss  Mary  Hill. 

vni 

80  Beacon  Terrace, 

Brighton,  N.Y., 

April  24,  1907. 
My  dear  John, 

I  have  just  read  in  the  morning  "Herald"  the  good  news  of 
your  appointment  as  valedictorian  for  your  class.  It  was  particu- 
larly gratifying  to  know  that  you  were  the  choice  of  your  class- 
mates as  well  as  of  your  teachers,  and  that  the  vote  was  in  both 
cases  unanimous.  Your  success  has  made  all  your  friends  very 
proud  of  you,  and  I  take  this  early  opportunity  to  offer  you  my 
congratulations  and  best  wishes. 

Cordially  yours, 

Mary  Lee. 

IX  • 

Clover  Hill  School, 

March  30,  1907. 
Dear  Johnson, 

Please  accept  my  heartiest  congratulations  on  your  election  as 
class  president.  Of  course,  since  I  was  the  rival  candidate,  1  felt 
a  sportsmanlike  determination  to  make  a  good  fight,  but  I  am 
sure  you  will  not  harbor  against  me  anything  I  may  have  said 
hastily  in  the  heat  of  the  conflict.  You  are  the  best  man  in  the 
class  for  the  position,  old  fellow,  and  you  will  have  no  more  loyal 
supporter,  I  promise  you,  than  your  late  antagonist. 

Always  cordially  yours. 

Rupert  S.  Austin. 


412  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

X 

East  India  House, 

May  21,  1819. 
Dear  Rickman, 

The  gentleman  who  will  present  this  letter  holds  a  situation 
of  considerable  importance  in  the  East  India  House,  and  is  my 
very  good  friend.  He  is  desirous  of  knowing  whether  it  is  too 
late  to  amend  a  mere  error  in  figures  which  he  has  just  discovered 
in  an  account  made  out  by  him  and  laid  before  the  House  yester- 
day. He  will  best  explain  to  you  what  he  means,  and  I  am  sure 
you  will  help  him  to  the  best  of  your  power.  Phillips  is  too  ill 
for  me  to  think  of  applying  to  him. 
Why  did  we  not  see  you  last  night? 

Yours  truly, 

Charles  Lamb. 

XI 

Olney, 

Jan.  1,  1771. 
Dear  Joseph, 

You  will  receive  two  parcels  of  venison,  a  haunch  and  a  shoul- 
der. The  first  was  intended  for  you,  the  other  comes  to  you  by 
mistake.  Some  hours  after  the  basket  was  sent  to  the  wagon, 
we  discovered  that  the  shoulder  had  been  packed  up  instead  of 
the  haunch.  All  imaginable  endeavors  were  made  to  recover  it, 
but  without  success;  the  wagon  could  not  be  unloaded  again, 
and  it  was  impossible  otherwise  to  get  at  it.  You  may  therefore 
thank  a  blundering  servant  for  a  venison  pasty,  which,  if  she  had 
minded  her  business  better,  would  have  been  eaten  at  Olney. 

Yours,  my  dear  friend, 

Wm.  Cowper. 

XII 

Greenpoint,  near  the  Red  Fork  of  the  Arkansas, 

Oct.  18,  1832. 
My  dear  Sister, 

I  wrote  to  you  when  about  to  start  from  Fort  Gibson,  under 
an  escort,  to  join  the  exploring  party  of  rangers.  We  came  up 
with  them,  in  the  course  of  three  or  four  days,  on  the  banks  of 
the  Arkansas.  The  whole  troop  crossed  that  river  the  day  before 
yesterday,  some   on  rafts,  some    fording.    Our    own    immediate 


EXERCISES  IN  LETTER-WRITING  413 

party  have  a  couple  of  half-breed  Indians  as  servants,  who  under- 
stand the  Indian  customs.  They  constructed  a  kind  of  boat  or 
raft  out  of  a  buffalo  skin,  on  which  Mr.  Ellsworth  and  myself 
crossed  at  several  times,  on  the  top  of  about  a  hundredweight  of 
luggage  —  an  odd  way  of  crossing  a  river  a  quarter  of  a  mile  wide. 

"VVe  are  now  on  the  borders  of  the  Pawnee  country,  a  region 
untraversed  by  white  men,  except  by  solitary  trappers.  We  are 
leading  a  wild  life,  depending  upon  game,  such  as  deer,  elk,  bear, 
for  food,  encamping  on  the  borders  of  brooks,  and  sleeping  in  the 
open  air  under  trees,  with  outposts  stationed  to  guard  us  against 
any  surprise  by  the  Indians. 

We  shall  probably  be  three  weeks  longer  on  this  tour.  Two 
or  three  days  bring  us  into  the  buffalo  range,  where  we  shall  have 
grand  sport  hunting.    We  shall  also  be  in  the  range  of  wild  horses. 

I  send  this  letter  by  a  party  of  the  men  who  have  to  return  to 
escort  two  or  three  sick  men,  who  have  the  measles  and  fevers. 
The  rest  of  the  camp  is  well,  and  our  own  party  in  high  spirits. 
I  was  never  in  finer  health,  or  enjoyed  myself  more,  and  the 
idea  of  exploring  a  wild  country  of  this  magnificent  character  is 
very  exciting. 

I  write  at  the  moment  of  marching.  The  horses  are  all  saddled, 
and  the  bugle  sounds  for  mounting.  God  bless  you.  I  shall  not 
have  another  opportunity  of  writing  until  I  return  to  the  garri- 
son of  Fort  Gibson.  We  are  far  beyond  any  civilized  habitation, 
or  even  an  Indian  village. 

Love  to  all.    Your  brother, 

Washington  Irving.1 


EXERCISES  IN  LETTER-WRITING 

Business  Letters 

1.  John  Smith  is  the  owner  of  a  canal  boat  which  runs  on  the 
Erie  Canal.  Write  to  him  in  order  to  make  arrangements  to  use 
his  boat  for  a  picnic. 

2.  Write  to  John  S.  Egremont,  a  noted  lecturer,  asking  him 
on  what  terms  he  would  speak  in  your  town  for  the  benefit  of 
the  High  School. 

1  From  "Life  and  Letters  of  Washington  Irving,"  by  Pierre  M.  Irving 
(New  York,  6.  P.  Putnam's  Sons). 


414  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

3.  Write  to  the  Secretary  of  Yale  University,  asking  him  to 
send  you  an  announcement  of  the  requirements  for  admission. 

4.  John  L.  Anderson,  of  your  city,  contemplates  buying  a 
small  house  in  the  country  for  the  use  of  his  family  in  the 
summer.  He  advertises  for  such  a  house,  stating  his  require- 
ments. The  house  must  be  within  three  miles  of  a  railroad 
station. 

Answer  the  advertisement,  describing  the  house  you  have 
for  sale. 

Assume  that  you  are  a  dealer  in  real  estate.  Answer  the 
advertisement,  asking  further  questions  and  offering  to  assist 
Mr.  Anderson  in  finding  a  house. 

Write  Mr.  Anderson's  reply  to  the  first  letter. 

Write  Mr.  Anderson's  reply  to  the  second  letter. 

5.  You  wish  to  become  a  bookkeeper.  Write  to  a  friend  who 
has  had  long  experience,  and  ask  his  advice  as  to  your  course  of 
study  and  the  best  method  of  preparing  for  your  work. 

6.  Write  to  the  principal  of  some  high  school  in  your  state, 
proposing  a  debate  between  his  school  and  your  own.  Suggest 
the  conditions  under  which  the  debate  should  be  conducted ; 
name  two  or  three  subjects,  and  invite  further  correspondence. 

7.  A  gentleman  whom  you  know  wishes  to  buy  a  dog.  Write 
to  him,  offering  to  sell  him  your  dog.  Describe  the  dog's 
characteristics. 

8.  Write  to  the  congressman  of  your  district,  asking  him 
how  you  can  become  eligible  for  examination  for  West  Point,  or 
for  the  Naval  Academy  at  Annapolis. 

9.  Write  to  the  proprietor  of  a  summer  hotel  at  Atlantic 
City  for  a  descriptive  circular  giving  full  information  about  the 
hotel  and  its  environment. 

10.  You  wish  to  buy  a  piano.  Write  to  the  proprietors  of  the 
salesrooms  in  your  town,  asking  for  descriptions  of  the  best 
pianos,  with  prices. 

Business  Transactions 

A  business  transaction  may  require  much  correspondence 
before  its  details  are  settled.  There  are  usually  preliminary 
inquiries,  definite  propositions,  an  agreement,  and  the  perform- 
ance of  the  agreement.    All  these  items  require  letter-writing. 


EXERCISES   IN   LETTER-WRITING  415 


STEAM  CARPET  CLEANING,  3  cents  a  yard. 
Carpets  laid,  3  cents  a  yard.    Tel.  305-2.    THE 
N.  J.  EVANS  COMPANY,  Norfolk,  cor.  Castle  St. 

1.  Write  to  the  company,  asking  them  to  send  for  your  carpet, 
which  is  to  be  cleaned,  repaired,  and  laid. 

2.  Write  a  reply  to  No.  1. 

3.  Make  out  a  bill  for  the  work. 

4.  Write  a  letter  enclosing  a  check  in  payment,  and  saying 
that  the  work  has  been  well  and  promptly  done.1 

II 

PASSAGE  TICKETS  to  and  from  EUROPE  via 
Allan,  American,  Anchor,  Cunard,  Dominion, 
White  Star,  and  Scandinavian-American  Lines. 
All  lines  of  rail  and  ocean  travel  represented. 
Tickets  to  and  from  all  parts  of  the  world.  T.  L. 
Smith  &  Co.,  45  Elliot  St.    Telephone,  Main  656. 

Conduct  the  following  correspondence,  referring  to  the  adver- 
tisement of  the  steamship  agents. 

1.  Write  to  the  firm,  asking  for  descriptive  circulars.  Mention 
the  paper  in  which  you  first  saw  the  advertisement. 

2.  Write  the  reply  of  T.  L.  Smith  &  Co. 

3.  After  examining  the  circulars,  you  decide  to  take  passage 
for  a  party  of  six  by  the  Dominion  Line.  Write,  asking  for  a 
plan  of  the  ships  of  this  line,  with  dates  of  sailing  and  definite 
terms. 

4.  Write  T.  L.  Smith  &  Co.'s  reply  to  the  inquiries  in  No.  3. 
Remark  that  a  plan  is  enclosed. 

5.  Write  to  engage  passage  for  your  party  on  a  certain  ship  at 
a  certain  date.  Indicate  selected  staterooms  in  order  of  choice, 
and  enclose  check  for  the  preliminary  deposit  required. 

6.  The  ship  which  you  have  selected  is  disabled.  The  com- 
pany substitutes  another  and  sends  a  printed  letter  to  all  persons 
who  have  taken  passage.    Write  the  letter. 

1  For  business  forms,  see  pp.  4(50-468. 


416  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

7.  Write  a  letter  to  the  company,  asking  if  it  is  possible  to 
exchange  your  tickets,  in  order  to  secure  passage  in  one  of  the 
ships  sailing  either  earlier  or  later. 

8.  Write  a  reply  to  No.  7,  arranging  for  the  exchange. 

9.  Write  to  the  company,  closing  the  transaction. 

Friendly  Letters 1 

1.  Imagine  yourself  at  Manila.  Write  to  your  cousin  at  home. 
Tell  her  how  the  climate  differs  from  that  of  your  own  city  ; 
describe  the  appearance  of  Manila  and  the  habits  of  the  people, 
and  add  anything  else  which  may  be  of  interest. 

2.  Write  from  Paris  to  your  friend  Elbert  Smith  in  Buffalo, 
N.Y.  Describe  some  of  the  interesting  places  that  you  have 
visited. 

3.  You  are  snow-bound  on  your  way  from  Albany  to  Cleve- 
land, and  delayed  for  fifteen  hours.  Telegraph  to  your  friends  in 
Cleveland,  assuring  them  of  your  safety  and  explaining  the  delay. 

After  your  arrival  in  Cleveland,  write  a  letter  home  and 
describe  your  journey. 

4.  Your  friend  Alfred  Maybury  writes  to  ask  you  about  a 
camping  trip  you  made  last  summer  to  a  lake  near  your  home. 
Answer  him,  explaining  what  he  will  need  in  the  way  of  outfit, 
and  giving  him  any  other  information  that  is  likely  to  be  useful 
to  him  in  preparing  for  a  similar  trip. 

5.  One  of  your  classmates  has  been  ill  in  a  hospital,  but  is 
convalescent.  Write  to  him,  telling  what  has  happened  at  school 
during  his  illness.  You  will  of  course  tell  him  that  he  has  been 
missed,  and  that  you  are  glad  to  hear  of  his  recovery. 

6.  Write  a  reply  to  No.  5,  describing  life  in  the  hospital  and 
asking  questions  about  the  progress  of  the  class. 

7.  You  have  sailed  from  Liverpool  on  a  steamship  bound  for 
Boston.  The  propeller  is  broken,  and  after  two  days'  drifting 
your  ship  is  discovered  by  an  ocean  liner  and  is  towed  back  to 
Queenstown.  Send  a  message  by  cable,  informing  your  friends 
that  you  are  safe. 

Write  a  letter  home,  recounting  your  experiences. 

1  Much  of  the  material  in  the  Exercises  in  Narration  (pp.  78-88)  and 
Description  (pp.  137-144)  may  be  utilized  for  letter-writing. 


EXERCISES  IN  LETTER-WRITING  417 

8.  Your  friend  Elmer  Eaton  is  a  freshman  at  college.  He 
writes  to  you,  describing  the  college  and  outlining  some  of  his 
experiences  there.    Reproduce  the  letter. 

9.  Your  cousin  Ethel  Wright  sends  you  a  letter  from  the 
school  at  which  she  is  studying.  She  informs  you  that  her 
friend  and  classmate  Miss  Jane  Merriam  is  to  spend  a  week 
in  your  city,  and  asks  you  to  call  on  Miss  Merriam.  Reproduce 
the  letter. 

10.  Write  to  your  friend  Geoffrey  Nelson,  who  lives  in  Colum- 
bus, Ohio,  asking  him  to  spend  his  summer  vacation  with  you. 
Tell  him  what  you  will  do  to  make  his  visit  agreeable.  Your 
father  and  mother  join  in  the  invitation. 

11.  Write  a  journal  letter,  recounting  briefly  the  incidents  of 
a  journey  from  Philadelphia  to  San  Francisco.  It  may  be  written 
to  your  mother,  to  your  younger  sister,  or  to  a  friend. 

12.  Write  a  letter  to  your  family  from  a  country  town  in 
which  you  have  just  found  employment.  Describe  both  the  town 
and  the  work  which  you  are  doing. 

13.  You  have  been  reading  a  book  which  a  friend  had  given 
you.  Write  to  the  friend,  expressing  your  opinion  of  the  book, 
and  commenting  upon  the  characters  and  plot. 

14.  Write  a  letter  to  a  young  friend  who  contemplates  leaving 
school  before  graduation,  without  apparent  reason.  Urge  him  to 
complete  the  course  and  explain  the  resulting  advantages. 

15.  Write  a  description  of  a  day's  outing  to  a  friend  who  had 
intended  to  join  the  party,  but  wras  accidentally  detained. 

16.  Find  in  the  Library  good  examples  of  descriptive  letters. 
Select  one  to  present  to  the  class,  and  point  out  the  features  which 
make  the  letter  interesting  and  readable. 

17.  Compose  two  letters :  the  first  from  a  son  to  his  mother, 
describing  his  first  experiences,  away  from  home,  at  a  boarding- 
school  ;  the  second  replying  to  the  first,  and  presenting  the 
mother's  point  of  view. 

18.  Write  a  letter  in  which,  in  the  narrative  form,  you  explain 
to  your  friend  the  manufacture  of  boots  and  shoes. 

19.  Write  a  letter  which  describes  an  old  mill  to  a  man  who 
intends  to  purchase  it  for  investment. 

20.  Write  another  letter  to  a  friend  describing  the  mill  as  you 
first  saw  it  on  a  morning  in  early  spring. 


418  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

INVITATIONS  AND  REPLIES 

Invitations  and  replies  are  either  formal  or  informal.  The 
reply  should  accord  in  style  with  the  invitation. 

An  informal  invitation  is  written  like  any  other  familiar 
letter,  except  that  the  heading  is  often  less  exact  in  desig- 
nating the  date  and  place.  Sometimes  the  place  is  omitted 
altogether. 

A  formal  invitation  is  always  in  the  third  person,  which 
should  be  maintained  throughout.  It  has  no  heading,  no 
salutation,  and  no  "  Yours  truly  "  (or  the  like)  at  the  end. 
It  is  also  unsigned,  for  the  writer's  name  appears  in  the 
body  of  the  invitation. 

In  both  formal  and  informal  invitations  the  address  of 
the  sender  and  the  date  may  be  written  below  and  at  the 
left.  The  day  of  the  month  is  often  written  out  in  full, 
and  the  year  may  be  omitted. 

A  formal  invitation  may  be  arranged  in  lines  of  different 
lengths,  as  in  the  following  example.  This  is  always  the 
practice  when  it  is  engraved. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  Egbert 

request  the  pleasure  of 

Mr.  Johnston's 

company  at  dinner 

on  Wednesday,  January  fourteenth, 

at  seven  o'clock. 

43  Grantham  Street. 

A  formal  reply  is  also  in  the  third  person,  and  follows 
the  style  of  the  invitation  in  other  respects.  It  need  not, 
however,  be  "  displayed  "  like  an  engraved  invitation. 

A  reply,  whether  formal  or  informal,  should  repeat  the 
date  and  hour  mentioned  in  the  invitation,  to  prevent 


INVITATIONS  AND  REPLIES  419 

mistake.1    It  should  in  every  case  be  sent  at  once,  that  the 
host  or  hostess  may  know  how  many  guests  to  expect. 

Specimens  of  invitations  and  replies,  formal  and  informal, 
are  the  following  :  — 

[A  formal  invitation.] 

Mrs.  John  T.  Lawrence  requests  the  pleasure  of  Miss  Ainslee's 
company  at  dinner  on  Wednesday,  February  twenty-seventh,  at 
seven  o'clock. 

239  Main  Street. 

[A  formal  reply,  accepting.] 

Miss  Ainslee  accepts  with  pleasure  Mrs.  Lawrence's  kind  invi- 
tation for  Wednesday  evening,  February  twenty-seventh,  at  seven 
o'clock. 

13  Chestnut  Terrace, 

February  twenty-fourth. 

[A  formal  reply,  declining.] 

Miss  Ainslee  regrets  that  a  previous  engagement  prevents 
her  accepting  Mrs.  Lawrence's  kind  invitation  for  Wednesday 


evening. 


13  Chestnut  Terrace, 

February  twenty-fourth. 

[Informal  invitations  and  replies.] 

5  Clifton  Road, 
Dear  Miss  Adams,  Thursday  morning. 

.May  I  have  the  pleasure  of  taking  you  and  your  sister  to  drive 
in  the  Park  this  afternoon?  The  day  is  a  beautiful  one,  and  I 
do  not  like  to  have  you  return  to  the  West  without  seeing  the 
prettiest  thing  our  town  has  to  show. 

If  it  is  convenient  for  you,  I  will  call  at  three  o'clock.  The 
bearer  will  wait  for  your  reply. 

Most  cordially  yours, 

Charlotte  L.  Fansiiaw. 

i  In  declining  an  invitation,  however,  it  is  not  necessary  to  mention 
the  hour. 


420  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

My  dear  Mrs.  Richards, 

Will  you  and  Mr.  Richards  give  us  the  pleasure  of  your  com- 
pany at  dinner  on  Friday,  August  tenth,  at  seven  o'clock? 

Sincerely  yours, 

Mary  Sanderson. 

9  Hilton  Place, 

August  third. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Sanderson, 

It  will  give  us  great  pleasure  to  dine  with  you  on  Friday,  the 
tenth,  at  seven  o'clock. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Helen  Richards. 

10  Alton  Street, 

August  fourth. 

My  dear  Mrs.  Sanderson, 

I  am  very  sorry  that  a  previous  engagement  will  deprive  us  of 
the  pleasure  of  dining  with  you  on  Friday. 

Sincerely  yours, 

Helen  Richards. 

10  Alton  Street, 

August  fourth. 


SUPPLEMENTARY  EXERCISES 


SUBJECTS   FOR   COMPOSITIONS 

(1)  A  Page  in  a  Diary.  (2)  A  Day  at  the  Lake.  (3)  A  Half- 
Holiday  in  May.  (4)  My  First  Impressions  of  the  High  School. 
(5)  The  Character  of  Sir  Galahad.  (6)  A  Country  Road  in 
Spring.  (7)  Longfellow's  "Evangeline."  (8)  The  Playthings 
of  a  Four-year-old.  (9)  How  we  Made  our  Camp.  (10)  How  to 
Catch  Trout.  (11)  The  Oldest  House  in  our  Town.  (12)  The 
Destruction  of  St.  Pierre.  (13)  A  Bit  of  Human  Nature. 
(II)  Theatres  in  Shakspere's  Time.  (15)  <<  Snow-Bound."  (16)  Tom 
Tulliver.  (17)  Uriah  Keep.  (18)  The  Book  I  Like  Best.  (19)  A 
Visit  to  the  Farm.  (20)  How  Sugar  is  Made.  (21)  Life  on  a 
Ranch.  (22)  A  Winter  Evening.  (23)  Kate's  Contribution  to 
the  Housekeeping.  (24)  How  Robert  Paid  the  Mortgage. 
(25)  How  a  Boy  may  Earn  his  Living.  (26)  Three  Good  Rea- 
sons for  Studying  Grammar.  (27)  From  the  Oak  Tree  to  the 
Library  Table.  (28)  The  Trees  of  our  Village.  (29)  The  Trees 
in  the  Hill  Pasture.  (30)  Learning  to  Sail  a  Boat.  (31)  What 
the  Fisherman  Told  me.  (32)  The  Long  Summer  Vacation. 
(33)  Why  I  Wish  to  go  to  College.  (34)  Hawthorne's  Descrip- 
tions of  Nature.  (35)  The  Story  of  a  Child.  (36)  An  American 
Hero.  (37)  The  Life  of  an  Engineer.  (38)  The  Work  which 
is  Worth  Doing.  (39)  How  Rapid  Transit  Affects  City  Life. 
(40)  The  Advantages  of  Travel. 

The  following  subjects  are  to  be  assigned  in  advance.  The 
students  should  prepare  for  the  exercise  by  reading,  observation,  or 
study.    The  writing  should  be  done  in  the  class  and  should  occupy 

421 


422  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

not  more  than  five  minutes.  All  the  students  should  write  upon 
the  same  subject,  and  the  compositions  should  be  exchanged  and 
criticised  during  the  same  recitation  period. 

The  composition  may  consist  of  one  paragraph  or  of  several, 
according  to  the  plan  of  the  writer. 

1.  What  is  your  opinion  of  Maggie  Tulliver? 

2.  Should  students  give  any  time  to  light  reading? 

3.  Do  you  like  the  poems  of  Robert  Burns,  and  why  ? 

4.  "Which  attracts  you  more,  country  life  or  city  life? 

5.  Give  reasons  for  your  choice  of  subjects  of  study. 

6.  What  kind  of  occupation  seems  most  attractive  to  you? 
Give  your  reasons. 

7.  Which  is  of  greater   importance  to  the  commonwealth, 
farming  or  manufacturing? 

8.  Which  seems  to  you  the  higher  occupation,  trade  or  teaching? 

9.  What  in  your  opinion  are  the  essentials  of  good  manners  ? 

10.  Give  reasons  for  maintaining  quiet  demeanor  and  a  digni- 
fied manner  in  public. 

11.  Explain  one  of  the  common  campaign  phrases  of  the  day. 

12.  Give  at  least  five  reasons  for  taking  regular  and  varied 
out-of-door  exercise. 

13.  What  are  your  chief  duties  to  your  neighbor  ? 

14.  What  do  you  understand  by  a  prig  f  a  fop  ?  an  exquisite  f 
an  epicure  ? 

The  following  subjects  involve  narration  or  description,  or 
both.     They  are  intended  to  be  suggestive  merely. 

(1)  My  Stroll  on  the  Beach.  (2)  My  First  Hour  in  a  Sailboat. 
(3)  Our  Valley  at  Sunset.  (4)  Looking  Down  from  the  Moun- 
tain. (5)  The  Harbor  in  a  Fog.  (6)  Lost  on  the  Prairie. 
(7)  In  Pursuit  of  Three  Buttons  and  a  Spool  of  Silk.  (8)  The 
Good  Comrade  in  School.  (9)  How  I  Learned  to  Skate.  (10)  A 
Winter  Morning  after  the  Rain.  (11)  The  Longest  Way  Round 
is  the  Shortest  Way  Home.  (12)  How  I  Wrote  my  First  Com- 
position. (13)  How  Jack  Earned  his  Class  Pin.  (14)  How  I 
took  Care  of  my  Garden.     (15)  The  Daily  Mail  at  Smithville. 


EXERCISES  423 


NARRATION 


1.  Bring  to  the  class  some  story  in  which  the  introductory 
paragraph  contains  a  description. 

2.  Carefully  enumerate  the  items  which  are  included  in  the 
introduction  to  "The  Battle  of  Bannockburn  "  (pp.  22-23).  Show 
how  the  movement  of  the  story  might  have  been  hindered  by  the 
omission  of  any  of  these  items.  How  does  this  introduction  differ 
from  those  which  you  have  studied  in  previous  exercises  ? 

3.  Find  in  magazines  or  newspapers  short  stories  or  anecdotes 
introduced  by  a  brief  paragraph  or  a  single  sentence :  for  example, 
"The  following  story  appeared  in  the  'Springfield  Republican '  at 
the  time  of  the  spring  floods,"  or  "  Thomas  Hughes  relates  this 
story  of  Dr.  Arnold." 

4.  Turn  to  Longfellow's  poems,  and  study  his  introduction 
to  the  "Song  of  Hiawatha,"  "  Evangeline,"  "Tales  of  a  Wayside 
Inn,"  and  "The  Courtship  of  Miles  Standish."  How  does  the 
last  differ  from  the  first?  Point  out  the  essential  features  of  each 
introduction,  showing  how  they  help  the  reader. 

5.  Recite  an  anecdote  which  needs  to  be  formally  introduced. 
Invent  two  or  three  appropriate  introductions,  and  point  out  the 
advantage  of  each. 

6.  Write  the  outline  of  a  brief  anecdote,  noting  (1)  the 
purpose  and  details  of  the  introduction,  and  (2)  the  items  to 
be  included  in  the  story. 

7.  Tell  the  story  of  Pandora.  You  will  find  the  material  in 
Hawthorne's  "  Wonder-Book." 

8.  Report  some  story  of  a  child.  Let  the  story  include  a 
dialogue. 

9.  Write  an  imaginary  story  of  adventure. 

10.  The  story  of  a  prairie  fire.  —  A  twelve-year-old  girl  is  left 
at  home  to  care  for  her  little  sister  and  baby  brother.  The  sister 
is  at  play  in  the  yard,  the  baby  is  asleep.  The  girl  looks  from 
the  window  and  sees  fire  on  the  distant  prairie.  She  has  heard 
stories  of  the  havoc  wrought  by  prairie  fires  ;  wraps  both  children 


424  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

in  wet  quilts ;  mounts  a  horse  with  them ;  urges  him  forward ; 
races  with  the  fire ;  and  at  last  reaches  the  creek  and  is  safe. 

11.  Tell  the  story  of  a  practical  joke.  (1)  Let  the  one  who 
played  the  joke  tell  it,  with  great  delight  in  his  achievement. 
(2)  Let  the  one  upon  whom  the  joke  was  played  recite  it,  showing 
the  serious  consequences  of  the  trick.  (3)  Let  some  one  who  has 
heard  both  sides  tell  the  story,  showing  real  understanding  and 
appreciation  of  both  sides.  (I)  Let  some  critic  tell  the  story, 
blaming  the  joker  and  sympathizing  with  the  person  who  suf- 
fered from  the  trick. 

12.  Jane  Grant  lives  on  a  farm  in  Ashfield,  Ohio.  She  has 
"finished  school,"  according  to  her  neighbors;  but  she  desires  to 
go  to  college.  Her  mother  sympathizes,  but  does  not  believe  the 
necessary  money  can  be  raised.  Her  father  thinks  Jane  knows 
enough  already.  Her  aunt  Martha  objects  vigorously.  Her  older 
sister  suggests  a  plan  by  which  Jane  can  pay  her  way.  Tell  the 
story  (1)  from  Jane's  point  of  view;  (2)  as  her  mother  might 
have  written  it  in  a  letter  to  an  old  friend ;  (3)  as  Jane's  father 
might  have  told  it;  (4)  from  the  aunt's  point  of  view;  (5)  as 
Jane's  sister  might  have  written  it  in  her  diary. 

13.  Tell  the  story  of  the  combat  in  Matthew  Arnold's  "Sohrab 
and  Rustum."  Let  your  introduction  explain  the  circumstances 
so  that  the  incident  shall  be  intelligible. 

14.  Select  an  incident  from  Thackeray's  "Virginians"  and  tell 
it  in  your  own  words. 

15.  Give  a  brief  account  of  the  plot  of  "The  Merchant  of 
Venice  "  ;  of  "  As  You  Like  It." 

16.  Write  from  memory  the  story  of  one  of  the  following 
selections  from  Hawthorne's  "  Twice-Told  Tales  "  :  —  "  David 
Swan,"  "Old  Esther  Dudley,"  "Mr.  Higginbotham's  Catastro- 
phe," "Howe's  Masquerade,"  "Lady  Eleanore's  Mantle,"  "The 
Minister's  Black  Veil." 

17.  How  did  Robinson  Crusoe  become  acquainted  with  his 
man  Friday  ?  Tell  the  story,  with  a  brief  introduction  explain- 
ing how  Robinson  came  to  be  on  a  desert  island. 

18.  Write  a  story  suggested  by  some  incident  mentioned  in 
the  Sir  Roger  de  Coverley  papers. 


EXERCISES  425 


DESCRIPTION 


1.  Your  uncle  has  given  you  a  pony  and  cart.  Write  a  letter 
to  him,  thanking  him  for  his  gift,  and  expressing  your  apprecia- 
tion of  it.  Write  a  letter  to  a  friend,  describing  (1)  the  gift; 
(2)  your  first  drive. 

2.  Describe  a  day  on  a  canal  boat. 

3.  Report  a  visit  to  a  hayfield,  where  the  men  were  making 
hay.  Do  not  forget  the  landscape,  the  weather,  the  sweet  odors 
of  the  field,  the  appearance  of  the  passers-by. 

4.  Repeat  Exercise  3,  imagining  yourself  employed  in  "  raking 
after  the  cart." 

5.  Describe  a  pasture  in  the  country,  —  situation,  character 
of  the  ground,  trees,  bushes,  boulders,  etc.  Be  careful  not  to 
make  a  mere  inventory. 

6.  Write  a  description  of  your  back  yard  as  you  see  it  from 
the  window. 

7.  Describe  your  library  as  seen  from  the  street. 

8.  An  abandoned  street  car,  in  the  outskirts  of  the  city,  is  set 
in  a  field  and  used  by  an  eccentric  old  man  as  a  house.  Describe 
the  exterior ;  the  interior. 

Describe  the  old  man  who  lives  in  the  car. 

9.  A  fire  breaks  out  in  your  hotel  in  the  night.  You  are 
accidentally  locked  in  your  room.  You  hear  —  (what?).  You 
smell — (what?).  You  see  —  (what?).  You  try  to  escape  — 
(how  ?) .     You  are  rescued  —  (how  ?) . 

Write  a  full  description,  maintaining  your  point  of  view. 

10.  Describe  a  quarry.  If  possible,  visit  a  quarry,  and  make 
notes  for  your  outline.  Tell  what  you  see  (1)  from  above; 
(2)  from  below. 

Be  prepared  to  report  your  visit  to  the  class,  using  your  notes 
as  a  guide.  Be  careful  to  arrange;  the  items  of  your  description 
in  proper  order. 

11.  Describe  the  cover  of  some  magazine. 


426  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

12.  Describe  the  interior  of  a  hall  or  church,  as  if  you  were 
standing  at  the  entrance  (1)  when  the  hall  is  full;  (2)  when  it  is 
empty. 

13.  Describe  some  old-fashioned  costume  that  you  have  seen. 

14.  "  When  school  is  dismissed."  Describe  the  scene.  Let  it 
be  at  midday,  in  June. 

Write  your  description  from  the  teacher's  point  of  view ;  again, 
from  the  pupil's  side ;  once  more,  as  if  you  were  a  passer-by. 

15.  Write  a  brief  description  of  one  of  the  characters  in 
the  f ollowing  list :  —  Silas  Marner ;  Florence  Dombey ;  Captain 
Cuttle  ;  Benjamin  Franklin  ;  Lafayette  ;  Florence  Nightingale  ; 
Sir  Roger  de  Coverley ;  Enoch  Arden  ;  Ellen  Douglas  ;  Rebecca ; 
Ivanhoe ;  the  Ancient  Mariner. 

16.  Write  a  description  in  the  present  tense.  Imagine  that 
you  are  approaching  the  scene  described.  Introduce  new  details 
as  you  come  nearer. 

17.  Write  two  paragraphs,  describing  your  village,  town,  or 
city,  as  you  imagine  it  would  appear  to  the  occupants  of  a  balloon 
ascending  from  the  common,  or  the  central  square. 

18.  Write  a  description  in  which  you  suggest  sounds  and  odors 
as  well  as  the  scene  which  you  describe. 

19.  You  climb  a  hill  in  order  to  observe  the  sunrise.  The 
scene  may  be  in  the  city  or  the  country,  in  October  or  in  June. 
Write  the  description. 

20.  Describe  a  statue  with  which  you  are  familiar.  If  there 
is  none  in  your  immediate  neighborhood,  write  the  description 
from  a  picture. 

21.  Describe  two  objects  by  contrasting  them.  Select  two 
which  are  different  and  yet  comparable.  Prepare  your  composi- 
tion for  reading  in  the  class. 

22.  Test  one  of  the  descriptions  in  this  book  by  means  of  the 
following  questions  :  —  Is  the  description  clear  ?  Is  it  accurate  ? 
Is  it  interesting  ?  Does  it  present  a  related  whole  ?  What  is  the 
principal  element  of  the  description  ?  What  are  the  subordinate 
details  ?    What  is  the  general  impression  made  by  the  description  ? 


EXERCISES  427 

EXPOSITION  AND  EXPOSITORY 
DESCRIPTION 

1.  Describe  a  bridge  in  your  vicinity. 

a.  Tell  where  it  is. 

b.  Write  a  clear  description  of  its  appearance.     Speak  of 

the  material,  design,  and  general  plan  of  structure. 
Use  such  technical  terms  as  are  necessary  to  make 
your  meaning  clear.  These  may  be  learned  from 
conversation  with  bridge  builders  or  from  reading. 

2.  "Write  a  description  of  a  schoolhouse  with  which  you  are 
familiar.  Tell  where  it  is  situated,  and  describe  its  appearance. 
Tell  what  you  know  of  the  school  itself,  the  neighborhood  it  rep- 
resents, the  character  of  the  pupils,  and  add  any  interesting  and 
pertinent  facts  which  occur  to  you  as  you  write. 

3.  You  have  found  a  wild  flower  which  you  have  never  seen 
before.  Write  to  a  friend  who  has  some  knowledge  of  plants, 
and  describe  the  flower,  asking  its  name.  Use  such  botanical 
terms  as  are  necessary  to  make  your  meaning  clear. 

4.  Write  about  fences. 

a.  Use  of  fences ;  how  the  use  determines  the  kind. 

b.  Kinds  (with  description  of  particular   sorts  which  you 

have  seen,  —  the  New  England  stone  wall,  the  Vir- 
ginia rail  fence,  stump  fences,  barbed-wire  fences,  etc.). 

c.  Disappearance  of  the  fence  in  cities. 

5.  Describe  a  visit  to  some  manufactory.  In  preparing  your 
description  use  the  following  outline  :  — 

a.  Introductory    sentence,   including    location,    name,    and 

character  of  the  manufactory. 

b.  The  building  from  without. 

c.  The  departments,  or  rooms,  with  the  work  done  in  each, 

These  should  follow  the  order  of  the  manufacture. 

d.  The  finished  product. 

e.  The  distribution  of  the  manufactured  articles. 


428  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

6.  Describe  a  blue  jay,  a  crow,  an  owl,  a  robin,  a  duck,  or  a 
parrot.    In  preparing  your  description  use  the  following  outline  :  — 

a.  Tell  where  the  bird  may  be  found  (its  habitat). 

b.  Describe  its  appearance,  —  color,  size,  form,  etc. 

c.  Describe  its  habits. 

d.  Add  items  of  interest  which  occur  to  you. 

7.  Study  this  exposition  of  Thoreau's.  What  fact  does  he 
explain  ?  How  does  he  explain  it  ?  How  did  he  learn  this  truth  ? 
What  is  the  force  of  the  concluding  sentence  ? 

In  all  the  pines,  a  very  thin  membrane,  in  appearance  much  like  an 
insect's  wing,  grows  over  and  around  the  seed,  and  independent  of  it, 
while  the  latter  is  being  developed  within  its  base.  ...  In  other  words, 
a  beautiful  thin  sack  is  woven  around  the  seed,  with  a  handle  to  it  such 
as  the  wind  can  take  hold  of,  and  it  is  then  committed  to  the  wind,  expressly 
that  it  may  transport  the  seed  and  extend  the  range  of  its  species ;  and  this 
it  does  as  effectually  as  when  seeds  are  sent  by  mail  in  a  different  kind 
of  sack  from  the  patent  office. 

8.  Explain  some  fact  which  you  have  observed  in  nature  or 
learned  from  books.  Make  your  explanation  accurate,  as  well  as 
clear,  no  matter  how  trivial  the  item  may  seem  to  you. 

9.  Select  one  of  the  following  topics  for  an  explanatory  descrip- 
tion, as  in  Exercise  1,  and  write  a  paragraph  on  the  subject :  — 

The  buds  of  the  horse-chestnut  tree.         Mullein. 

The  second  year  of  an  onion's  life.  An  aquatic  plant. 

Clover  and  the  bees.  An  oriole's  nest. 

10.  Describe  a  suit  of  armor,  in  reply  to  a  child  who  asks  you 
about  it. 

11.  Imagine  a  person  who  has  never  seen  a  railroad.  Explain 
to  him  the  general  plan  of  construction. 

12.  Bring  to  the  class  a  short,  clear,  and  definite  exposition 
which  you  have  found  either  in  a  text-book  or  in  a  magazine. 
Read  it  aloud,  asking  your  classmates  to  discuss  the  exposition, 
and,  particularly,  to  ask  questions  about  such  parts  as  are  not 
entirely  clear. 

Rewrite  the  exposition  from  memory. 


EXERCISES 


429 


13.  Make  definitions  of  familiar  objects,  as  a  step  in  the 
process  of  exposition.  Observe  the  difference  between  an  exact 
and  logical  definition  and  a  general  description.  Define  the 
objects  or  ideas  mentioned  in  the  list  below. 


angle 

cube 

triangle 

scalene  triangle 

fraction 

interest 

commission 

denominator 

divisor 

subtrahend 

prime  number 

petiole 

legume 

pistil 

stamen 

mushroom 

fern 

spoon 

knife 

pitcher 

goblet 

carpet 

machine 

engine 

engineer 

machinist 

silversmith 

merchant 

commerce 

warship 

14.  "What  is  an  ocean  current?  Use  the  Gulf  Stream  as  an 
example  and  describe  clearly,  using  drawings. 

15.  Explain  the  formation  of  a  delta,  as  in  the  Nile  or  the 
Mississippi  River. 

16.  What  is  meant  by  the  solar  spectrum  ?  Explain  by  a 
diagram  and  a  written   descriptive  definition. 

17.  Explain  the  alphabet  used  in  telegraphy,  and  show  how  a 
message  is  sent. 

18.  Describe  Franklin's  experiment  with  the  kite. 

19.  Why  does  a  chestnut  snap  and  burst  while  roasting? 

20.  Turn  to  a  text-book  in  physiology.  Read  the  chapter 
which  explains  the  circulatory  system.  Make  a  careful  outline 
of  the  subject,  as  the  author  presents  it,  and  be  prepared  to  recite 
orally  from  your  outline. 

21.  Turn  to  a  good  physical  geography,  or  an  encyclopedia, 
and  find  a  brief  and  clear  exposition.  Make  an  outline  of  the 
exposition,  and  report  it  to  the  class. 

22.  Describe  a  railroad  switch.  Explain  (1)  its  use ;  (2)  its 
appearance;  (3)  its  operation;  (1)  pnssililt;  consequences  of  a 
misplaced  switch,  with  actual  example. 


430  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

23.  "Write  about  lamps.  (1)  Definition  of  your  subject; 
(2)  how  lamps  are  constructed;  (3)  how  lamps  should  be  cared 
for ;  (4)  lamps  in  former  days. 

24.  What  is  a  savings  bank  ?  How  is  such  a  bank  established 
in  your  state  ?  How  is  an  account  opened  ?  How  is  it  "  kept " 
or  recorded  ?  How  is  money  deposited  ?  How  is  interest  drawn  ? 
What  rate  per  cent  is  paid  ?  If  interest  is  not  withdrawn,  what 
becomes  of  it  ?  Should  a  boy  or  girl  open  an  account  at  a  savings 
bank?     Wlrv,  or  why  not? 

25.  Define  a  suction  pump  ;  describe  it ;  explain  its  working ; 
draw  a  diagram  of  the  pump. 

Compare  definition,  description,  exposition,  and  diagram, 
showing  what  may  be  learned  from  each,  and  the  order  in  which 
you  receive  the  ideas  in  each  case. 

26.  Life  on  a  cattle  ranch  ;  on  a  wheat  ranch  ;  on  a  fruit  farm ; 
on  a  small  New  England  farm ;  on  a  plantation  in  the  South ;  in 
a  fishing  village  ;  in  a  mining  camp. 

27 .  When  Washington  was  a  boy  :  an  exposition  of  Virginian 
life  in  colonial  days. 

28.  Prepare  an  outline  for  an  explanatory  description  of  a 
battle.     Announce  your  plan,  in  introductory  sentence.     Thus,  — 

"You  must  first  know  the  objective  point  of  both  armies, 
which  was  .  .  .  Then  you  must  understand  the  position  of  the 
enemy,  which  was  .  .  .  Then  I  can  explain  our  movement  and 
its  result." 

29.  Make  an  announcement  of  your  plan  for  explaining  the 
manufacture  of  steel  rails. 

To  the  Teacher.  —  These  exercises  should  he  extended  and  varied 
until  the  pupils  realize  the  necessity  of  clear  aud  definite  arrangement. 
By  a  discussion  of  some  familiar  subject  (the  system  of  the  school ;  the 
arrangement  of  the  schoolhouse;  the  working  of  some  simple  machine 
whose  parts  may  he  seen  at  a  single  glance  of  the  eye  hut  must  be  treated 
consecutively  in  an  explanation)  the  pupils  may  be  taught  to  observe  the 
difference  between  the  natural  order  of  experience  and  the  systematic 
order  required  in  good  explanation.  When  this  principle  is  once  grasped, 
progress  is  easy. 


EXERCISES  431 

PARAGRAPHS 

1.  Study  the  second  and  third  paragraphs  in  Miss  Mitford's 
description  (pp.  94-95).  Make  (or  find)  a  topic  sentence  for  each. 
Observe  the  introductory  sentences.  Note  how  the  paragraph 
presents  in  detail  the  subject  which  is  introduced  by  the  opening 
sentences. 

2.  Write  a  paragraph  describing  a  familiar  scene  in  autumn 
or  spring.     Let  the  paragraph  present  the  details  of  the  scene. 

3.  "Write  a  paragraph  describing  a  person.  Use  the  plan 
followed  in  Exercise  2. 

4.  Write  one  or  more  paragraphs  on  the  subject  "  The 
borrower  is  servant  to  the  lender."  Let  your  first  paragraph 
consist  of  an  introduction,  and  in  those  that  follow  give  instances 
or  examples  of  the  truth  under  discussion. 

5.  Find  in  some  text-book  three  paragraphs  constructed  as  in 
Exercise  4. 

6.  Write  three  paragraphs  giving  instances  or  examples  to 
explain  the  following  subject :  "  The  blusterer  is  not  always  a 
hero,  neither  is  the  modest  man  necessarily  a  craven." 

7.  Write  on  one  of  the  following  subjects,  making  each 
paragraph  explain  an  effect  of  the  cause  stated  in  the  introductory 
sentence  :  —  (1)  The  Volcano  as  a  Neighbor.  (2)  Too  much  Help 
may  Hinder.  (3)  A  Midsummer  Drought.  (4)  The  Effects  of 
Rapid  Transit.  (5)  The  Invention  of  the  Telephone.  (6)  Wire- 
less Telegraphy. 

8.  Describe  a  pomegranate,  or  a  persimmon,  or  a  fig,  by  com- 
paring it  to  something  like  itself,  and  contrasting  it  with  some- 
thing different.     Outline  your  paragraphs,  to  show  their  plan. 

9.  Describe  some  character  in  history  or  fiction  by  telling 
what  he  is  not. 

10.  Write  three  paragraphs,  contrasting  the  dust  and  din  of 
the  city  with  the  quiet  and  freshness  of  the  country. 

11.  Analyze  the  last  paragraph  in  "The  Old  Boat"  (p.  Q'-i). 
What  is  the  plan  on  which  it  is  constructed  ? 


432  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

12.  Find  in  the  extracts  quoted  in  this  book  examples  of  para- 
graphs (1)  which  give  examples  ;  (2)  which  compare  or  contrast 
subjects  ;  (3)  which  show  the  effect  of  a  cause  ;  (4)  which  present 
details  ;  (5)  which  explain  by  showing  what  a  thing  is  not. 

13.  Write  a  paragraph,  attempting  to  prove  something  by 
denying  or  disproving  the  contrary.  Your  proposition  may  be 
"  Regular  periods  of  rest  are  essential  to  health,"  or  "  Washington 
was  an  able  statesman  as  well  as  a  devoted  patriot." 

14.  Show  that  the  paragraphs  in  "  The  Valley  of  the  Floss  " 
(p.  99)  are  good  examples  of  unity. 

15.  Point  out  the  means  by  which  transition  is  secured  in 
paragraphs  1  and  2  of  the  "Australian  Kangaroo  Hunt  "  (p.  147). 

16.  Write  a  paragraph  composed  of  related  questions,  as  on 
page  152. 

17.  Make  topic  sentences  for  the  paragraphs  necessary  in 
writing  one  of  the  compositions  outlined  on  pages  200-202. 

18.  Show  how  the  outlines  on  pages  200-201  naturally  suggest 
division  into  paragraphs. 

19.  Make  a  tabular  view  of  one  of  the  subjects  on  page  201  or 
page  203,  supplying  subordinate  details. 

20.  Review  one  of  the  briefs  on  pages  249-259,  noting  the 
natural  division  into  paragraphs. 

21.  Construct  a  paragraph  on  the  principle  of  the  climax. 

22.  Write  an  argument  on  one  of  the  subjects  named  on  page 
370.  Test  its  structure  by  asking  the  following  questions  : — ■ 
(1)  Are  the  paragraphs  well  proportioned?  (2)  Do  they  follow 
a  natural  or  logical  sequence?  (3)  Is  each  paragraph  a  unit? 
(4)  Are  the  transitions  smooth  and  easy  ?  (5)  Are  the  statements 
clear?  cogent?  (6)  Is  the  emphasis  well  placed?  (7)  Are  the 
interrelations  of  the  paragraphs  perfectly  clear? 

23.  Prepare  a  brief  for  an  essay  on  "  The  Advantages  of  Going 
Afoot."    Attend  to  the  structure  and  arrangement  of  paragraphs. 

24.  Read  a  short  essay  from  some  standard  author.  Report 
the  essay  in  outline  to  the  class.  What  does  the  essay  show  you 
about  paragraph  structure? 


EXERCISES  433 

STUDY   OF   THE   DICTIONAKY 

1.  Learn  all  that  the  Dictionary  can  tell  you  about  the  follow- 
ing words,  and  report  to  the  class :  —  dredge,  drift,  drop,  droop, 
elbow,  element,  emeritus,  emperor,  encore,  enunciate,  escalade, 
eschew,  estuary,  euphuism,  euphemism,  example,  extenuate,  fall, 
fast,  feint,  feudal,  find,  firm,  frame,  grate,  grocer,  gunwale,  haul, 
hansom,  heirloom,  herald,  comfort,  thorough,  favor,  liberal,  citizen, 
kingdom,  detach,  spasmodic,  countenance,  pheasant,  shrewd,  recipe, 
nostrum,  cadence,  category,  oriental,  plight,  quiz,  type,  weigh. 

2.  Prepare  to  answer  the  following  questions  in  an  oral  report 
to  the  class  :  — 

What  does  the  Dictionary  teach  you  about  the  pronunciation 
of  words  ?     Where  is  this  information  contained  ? 

What  signs  are  used  to  indicate  pronunciation?  Have  you 
mastered  the  diacritical  marks  ?  Can  you  pronounce  a  word  from 
its  diacritical  markings  ? 

Select  from  the  Dictionary  a  number  of  words  with  their  dia- 
critical marks,  to  be  written  on  the  blackboard  as  a  test  for  the 
other  pupils. 

3.  How  does  the  Dictionary  indicate  syllabication  and  accent 
of  words  ?     Illustrate  for  the  class. 

4.  How  does  the  Dictionary  indicate  the  part  of  speech  to 
which  a  word  belongs  ?     Illustrate  for  the  class. 

If  a  word  belongs  to  more  than  one  part  of  speech,  how  are 
the  definitions  arranged  ?     Illustrate. 

5.  What  does  the  Dictionary  show  concerning  the  derivation 
of  words  V     Explain  the  abbreviations  used  to  indicate  derivation. 

6.  AVhen  several  meanings  of  a  single  word  are  given  in  the 
Dictionary,  which  definition  should  you  select? 

7.  What  is  the  purpose  of  the  quotations  and  examples  which 
are  given  in  an  unabridged  dictionary  ?  Give  examples  to  show 
their  use. 

8.  Which  part  of  the  verb  is  included  in  the  dictionary  list? 
Does  the  Dictionary  help  you  to  spell  other  forms  of  the  verb? 


434  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


WORDS  AND  SENTENCES 

1.  Read  "  Rumpelstiltskin  "  (pp.  14-17),  in  order  to  answer 
the  following  questions :  —  (1)  What  words  do  you  find  in  the 
story  which  do  not  appear  in  your  ordinary  conversation  ?  Make 
a  list  of  these  words ;  then  use  each  one  carefully  in  a  sentence. 
(2)  Select  ten  words  for  which  you  can  substitute  longer  or  less 
familiar  synonyms.  Try  the  effect  of  each  synonym  in  the  sen- 
tence. (3)  For  what  audience  is  this  story  intended  ?  Show 
that  the  author  has  adapted  his  story  to  his  audience. 

2.  Use  in  sentences  of  your  own  the  following  words  from 
"Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles"  (pp.  17-20):  —  intention, 
persuaded,  prevail,  discreet,  prudence,  intrust,  commission,  waist- 
coat, bowling,  congratulate,  commendation,  importing,  assented, 
warrant,  passion,  blockhead,  sharper,  pretense. 

3.  Explain  the  use  of  the  following  words  which  occur  in 
"Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles  ":  —  higgles,  deal,  paces,  under- 
took, by  the  by,  shagreen,  murrain,  trumpery,  prowling. 

4.  Study  "Moses  and  the  Green  Spectacles,"  observing  the 
specific  words  and  phrases  which  enter  into  the  descriptions. 
Write  the  words  in  lists,  showing  which  are  nouns,  verbs,  adverbs, 
adjectives,  etc.  What  effect  is  produced  by  the  use  of  so  many 
specific  words? 

5.  Read  "  Lochinvar  "  (pp.  20-21),  picking  out  the  figurative 
expressions  in  the  poem. 

6.  Study  the  adjectives  in  Grey's  "Australian  Superstition" 
(pp.  27-29).  Write  them  in  a  list.  In  the  class,  be  prepared, 
with  the  other  pupils,  to  use  each  word  in  turn  in  an  impromptu 
sentence.  The  exercise  should  test  your  command  of  this 
vocabulary. 

7.  Make  a  list  of  the  nouns  in  "Australian  Superstition," 
using  them  as  in  the  previous  exercise. 

8.  Study  the  adjectives  used  in  "The  Valley  of  the  Floss" 
(p.  99).  Weigh  the  meaning  of  each  adjective,  as  you  read,  and 
see  what  it  contributes  to  your  thought  of  the  scene.     Which 


EXERCISES  435 

words  present  objects  to  your  eye  merely?  Which  -words  stir 
sorae  feeling  ?  Which  are  a  contribution  from  the  author's  feeling 
or  imagination  ?     Are  these  words  plain  or  figurative  ? 

9.  Use  in  written  sentences  of  your  own  these  words  from 
Miss  Mitford's  description  (pp.  94-95),  consulting  the  Dictionary 
when  you  are  in  doubt,  and  reporting  what  you  learn  about 
the  unfamiliar  words  :  —  avenue,  arching,  perspective,  cathedral, 
incrusted,  congelation,  hoar-frost,  denned,  uniform,  various,  fill- 
ing, satiating,  thrilling,  awfulness,  intense,  magnificent,  eminence, 
abruptly,  furze,  broom,  luxuriant,  hedgerows,  thyme,  holly,  pen- 
dent, bramble,  pollard,  rime,  tracery,  hip,  haw,  runlet,  trickles, 
transparent,  fantastic,  scudding,  gorgeous,  tropical,  mistrust, 
suspiciously,  glutton,  flue. 

10.  Distinguish  between  the  use  of  pretense  and  pretext ;  pro- 
posal and  proposition ;  motto  and  maxim ;  quote  and  plagiarize ; 
claim  and  assert ;  fiction  and  myth  ;  treachery  and  treason  ;  courage 
and  fortitude;  economy  and  parsimony;  modest  and  bashful;  coax 
and  convince.     Use  each  pair  of  words  in  a  sentence. 

11.  Study  the  words  and  phrases  which  are  used  in  each 
contrast  indicated  in  the  following  selection :  — 

To  everything  there  is  a  season,  and  a  time  to  every  purpose  under  the 
heaven:  a  time  to  be  born,  and  a  time  to  die;  a  time  to  plant,  and  a  time 
to  pluck  up  that  which  is  planted;  a  time  to  kill,  and  a  time  to  heal;  a 
time  to  break  down,  and  a  time  to  build  up;  a  time  to  weep,  and  a  time 
to  laugh ;  a  time  to  mourn,  and  a  time  to  dance ;  a  time  to  cast  away 
stones,  and  a  time  to  gather  stones  together;  a  time  to  embrace,  and  a 
time  to  refrain  from  embracing ;  a  time  to  get,  and  a  time  to  lose ;  a  time 
to  keep,  and  a  time  to  cast  away;  a  time  to  rend,  and  a  time  to  sew;  a 
time  to  keep  silence,  and  a  time  to  speak ;  a  time  to  love,  and  a  time  to 
hate;  a  time  of  war,  and  a  time  of  peace.  — Ecclesiastes,  hi,  1-8. 

12.  Read  a  paragraph  from  a  standard  author.  Make  a  list  of 
the  words  occurring  in  the  paragraph  which  you  do  not  ordinarily 
use  in  conversation.  Turn  to  the  Dictionary  ami  study  (lie  defi- 
nition of  each  word.  Then  compose  sentences  in  which  the 
words  are  correctly  used. 


436  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

13.  Select  a  paragraph  to  read  to  the  class.  After  the 
paragraph  has  been  read,  ask  different  members  of  the  class  to 
use  selected  words  in  sentences. 

14.  Let  each  member  of  the  class  select  ten  words  from  a  well- 
known  book  or  from  a  magazine  article  designated  by  the  teacher. 
These  words  are  to  be  brought  to  the  class.  As  each  word  is 
read,  a  pupil  may  be  asked  to  use  it  at  once  in  an  appropriate 
sentence.  The  words  which  cannot  be  promptly  and  correctly 
used  should  be  written  on  the  board  for  study  by  the  class. 

15.  See  how  many  appropriate  adjectives  you  can  use  in 
describing  certain  familiar  objects  or  scenes :  as,  —  an  oak  tree, 
a  procession,  a  family  at  home,  the  school  yard  at  recess,  market 
day,  a  Fourth-of-July  procession,  etc. 

16.  Select  a  paragraph  from  some  standard  author  and  care- 
fully study  the  words  used  in  the  paragraph.  Decide  whether 
they  are  appropriate  or  otherwise.  See  how  they  are  used,  and 
state  the  thought  in  another  way,  using  other  words. 

17.  Make  a  list  of  the  names  of  twenty-five  common  things 
(as,  pieces  of  furniture,  utensils,  tools,  etc.),  and,  with  the  help 
of  the  Dictionary,  find  the  derivation  of  the  names  in  your  list. 
See  from  what  language  they  have  come  into  English,  and  report 
what  you  have  learned  to  the  class. 

18.  Bring  to  the  class  a  newspaper  paragraph  which  seems  to 
you  carelessly  written,  and  suggest  words  or  phrases  which  will 
better  express  the  thought  of  the  paragraph. 

19.  Substitute  general  for  specific  words  in  "  The  Story  of  a 
Fire  "  (pp.  13-14),  and  observe  the  effect. 

20.  Use  the  following  general  and  specific  words  in  sentences, 
and  compare  the  effect  of  the  contrasted  terms :  —  went,  sped ; 
tree,  plum  tree ;  child,  barefoot  boy ;  man,  farmer ;  house,  cot- 
tage ;  city,  Chicago ;  sound,  hum,  whirr,  shriek,  whistle ;  insect, 
butterfly,  bee,  mosquito. 

21.  Use  the  following  words  in  sentences  which  illustrate  the 
difference  in  the  meaning  of  the  words  :  —  (1)  abbreviate,  abridge, 
contract ;  (2)  prohibit,  abolish,  annihilate ;  (3)  arbitrary,  despotic, 


exercises  437 

tyrannical;  (4)  forgive,  pardon,  acquit;  (5)  accident,  chance, 
misfortune;  (6)  companion,  comrade,  friend;  (7)  luxurious, 
luxuriant ;  (S)  imperious,  imperative ;  (9)  near,  neighboring, 
next;  (10)  adorn,  garnish,  decorate;  (11)  appearance,  denjeanor, 
mien;  (12)  equal,  equivalent ;  (13)  foreign,  alien  ;  (14)  mitigate, 
alleviate;  (15)  niggardly,  avaricious,  covetous;  (16)  awful,  dis- 
agreeable; (IT)  annoying,  horrid;  (18)  beach,  coast,  brink, 
strand ;  (1 9)  pretty,  beautiful,  handsome,  picturesque ;  (20)  bit- 
ter, pungent,  caustic  ;  (21)  noisy,  boisterous,  turbulent ;  (22)  sin- 
cere, transparent,  aboveboard ;  (23)  cause,  occasion ;  (21)  select, 
prefer;  (25)  class,  clique,  coterie,  set;  (20)  deception,  craft, 
hypocrisy. 

22.  Read  Sir  John  Lubbock's  exposition  of  a  regular  flower 
(p.  151).  Make  a  list  of  all  the  technical  words  which  occur  in 
the  selection.  Study  the  use  of  each  word.  See  if  you  can  sub- 
stitute more  familiar  words  or  phrases  without  loss  of  clearness 
or  definiteness. 

23.  Make  a  list  of  the  technical  words  used  in  Professor  Goss's 
comparison  of  a  stationary  and  a  locomotive  engine  (pp.  151-6). 
Bring  your  list  to  the  class,  to  compare  with  the  lists  made  by 
other  pupils.  Discuss  the  selection,  considering  the  meaning  and 
use  of  each  technical  word  in  its  place. 

24.  Describe  a  boat  race,  using  technical  terms. 

Rewrite  youx  description,  omitting  all  words  which  would  be 
unintelligible  to  a  person  who  knows  very  little  of  the  construc- 
tion and  management  of  boats. 

Read  both  descriptions  in  the  class,  for  comparison  and  criticism. 

25.  Explain  the  meaning  of  the  following  words  used  in  the 
description  of  buildings:  —  colonnade,  fresco,  dome,  facade,  arch, 
court,  peristyle,  vault,  cloister,  porch,  tower,  column,  rotunda, 
spire,  arcade,  cornice,  pediment,  cupola,  portico,  turret. 

26.  Define  the  technical  words  which  are  italicized  in  the 
following  sentences :  — 

Another  remarkable  result  of  the  migration  of  the  doldrum  belt  is 
seen  in  the  change  in  the  direction  of  the  trade  winds  when  they  cross  the 


438  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

geographic  equator  on  the  way  to  the  heat  equator.  The  northeast  trade 
is  extended  into  a  northwest  wind  in  the  southern  summer,  the  southeast 
trade  into  a  southwest  wind  in  the  northern  summer.  Thus  on  hoth 
sides  of  the  equator,  in  the  narrow  sub-equatorial  belts  where  this  relation 
appears,  the  winds  alternately  hlow  from  opposite  directions  as  the  seasons 
change.  Winds  of  this  kind  are  called  monsoons.  —  William  M.  Davis, 
"Physical  Geography." 

27.  Observe  the  work  of  a  carpenter  or  a  mason. 

Report  what  you  have  seen,  using  the  technical  names  for  the 
tools,  materials,  and  processes  which  you  describe. 

28.  Describe  a  door  which  you  have  carefully  observed.  Use 
the  appropriate  technical  terms  which  are  required  to  make  your 
description  accurate. 

29 .  Make  a  list  of  technical  terms  used  in  the  occupation  with 
which  you  are  most  familiar  (farming,  ship-building,  housekeep- 
ing, etc.).     Be  prepared  to  define  any  word  in  your  list. 

30.  Make  a  list  of  at  least  ten  slang  phrases  which  have 
originated  in  borrowed  technical  terms.  Example  :  —  "  You  are 
off  on  a  side-track."  Explain  the  origin  of  each  expression  in 
your  list. 

31.  In  the  following  phrases  or  sentences  you  will  find  words 
which  are  used  in  a  figurative  sense. 

Use  these  words  in  sentences.  Then  try  to  express  the  same 
thought  without  figures  of  speech. 

(1)  Murmuring  pines.  (2)  The  wail  of  the  forest.  (3)  Gos- 
siping looms.  (4)  His  thought  ripened  into  action.  (5)  The 
leaden  air  was  oppressive.  (G)  Silence  reigned  in  the  household. 
(7)  The  fire  was  gone  from  his  eye.  (8)  The  ocean  flew  from 
the  shore.  (9)  These  were  the  waifs  of  the  tide.  (10)  The 
moon  climbs  the  crystal  wall  of  heaven.  (11)  A  golden  day 
redeems  a  weary  year.  (12)  He  answered  with  a  vacant  stare. 
(13)  I  know  the  hunger  and  thirst  of  the  spirit.  (14)  This  is  a 
shipwrecked  nation.  (15)  He  saw  a  towering  oak.  (16)  A  day 
in  the  opening  spring.  (17)  The  friendly  streets  looked  just  as 
they  looked  when  he  was  a  boy.  (18)  He  returned  from  the 
fruitless  search.     (19)  She  wrung  a  scant  subsistence  from  her 


EXERCISES  439 

toil.  (20)  He  was  lost  in  thought.  (21)  Tie  strove  to  win 
the  palm.  (22)  This  position  "was  the  goal  of  his  ambition. 
(23)  The  news  flew  from  village  to  village.  (24)  His  son  is  the 
staff  of  his  declining  years.  (25)  He  is  steeped  in  forgetfulness. 
(26)  The  bird  wheeled  in  the  air.  (27)  Prune  your  thoughts. 
(28)  Xesbit  was  spurred  to  action. 

32.  In  the  poems  on  pp.  102-105  pick  out  ten  examples  of  fig- 
ures of  speech. 

33.  Make  a  paraphrase  of  the  poem  on  page  105  in  prose,  and 
see  whether  the  figures  from  the  poetry  will  fit  naturally  into  the 
prose. 

34.  Study  the  descriptive  words  and  phrases  in  Lowell's 
"  Vision  of  Sir  Launfal."  Select  from  the  poem  words  which 
do  not  ordinarily  occur  in  your  own  vocabulary,  and  use  them  in 
suitable  sentences. 

35.  Bring  to  the  class  fifteen  simple  figurative  expressions. 
Substitute  non-figurative  words,  and  compare  the  effect. 

36.  Explain  the  figures  of  speech  in  the  following  passages  :  — 

(1)  Northward  he  turneth  through  a  little  door, 
And  scarce  three  steps,  ere  music's  golden  tongue 
Flattered  to  tears  this  aged  man  and  poor. 

(2)  Oaths  are  straws,  men's  faiths  are  wafer-cakes. 

(3)  Xow  all  the  youth  of  England  are  on  fire. 

(4)  His  foes  are  so  enrooted  with  his  friends 
That,  plucking  to  unfix  an  enemy, 

He  doth  unfasten  so  and  shake  a  friend. 

(5)  Avaunt  !  Begone  !  thou  hast  set  me  on  the  rack. 

(6)  As  many  arrows,  loosed  several  ways, 

Come  to  one  mark  ;  as  many  ways  meet  in  one  town  ; 
As  many  fresh  streams  meet  in  one  salt  sea ; 
As  many  lines  close  in  the  dial's  centre ; 
So  may  a  thousand  actions,  once  afoot, 
End  in  one  purpose,  and  be  all  well  borne 
Without  defeat. 

(7)  Great  Nature;  spoke  ;  observant  man  obeyed. 


440  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

IMPEOPEIETIES 

The  correct  meanings  of  words  are  settled  by  godd  use  (p.  346)  ; 
violations  of  correctness  are  known  as  improprieties. 

To  the  Teacher.  —  Improprieties  are  best  studied  when  occasion 
arises,  —  that  is,  when  they  are  observed  in  the  pupil's  writing  or  speak- 
ing. The  word  that  is  misused  should  he  looked  up  in  an  unabridged 
dictionary,  aud  the  illustrative  quotations  noted;  then  the  pupil  should 
be  required  to  use  it  and  its  synonyms  in  a  number  of  original  sentences. 
The  exercises  that  follow  are  not  intended  to  be  studied  in  bulk,  but  rather 
to  serve  as  indications  of  the  commonest  violations  of  good  usage. 

1.  Define  the  verb  claim.  Study  its  correct  use  in  the  following 
sentences.  Observe  also  the  correct  use  of  allege,  assert,  maintain, 
hold.     How  does  claim  differ  from  these  verbs  in  meaning  ? 

The  son  claimed  his  father's  property. 

The  stranger  claims  to  be  a  person  of  consequence. 

A  day  will  come  when  York  shall  claim  his  own. 

This  prince  hath  neither  claimed  it  nor  deserved  it. 

The  Duke  of  Suffolk  is  the  first,  and  claims  to  be  high  steward. 

Of  these  am  I,  who  thy  protection  claim. 

He  asserts  that  he  has  been  injured. 

He  declares  that  there  is  no  help  for  it. 

How  can  you  maintain  that  this  Plato  was  not  Aristotle's  teacher  ? 

It  was  alleged  by  their  enemies  that  they  refused  to  take  the  oaths  to 
the  government. 

I  hold  they  are  not  worth  a  dollar. 

It  has  been  repeatedly  affirmed  by  the  learned  that  opium  is  a  dusky 
brown  in  color. 

2.  Study  fix,  adjust,  repair  as  in  Exercise  1.  The  words  are 
correctly  used  in  the  following  sentences  :  — 

"Re  fixed  his  eye  on  the  target. 

He  fixed  the  stake  in  the  ground. 

The  man  adjusted  his  cravat. 

I  do  not  know  how  to  repair  my  bicycle. 

3.  To  allude  to  a  thing  is  not  the  same  as  to  mention  it  or  to 
refer  to  it.  An  allusion  is  an  indirect  reference  that  suggests  the 
subject  without  mentioning  it  distinctly.     Thus,  — 


EXERCISES  441 

When  he  spoke  of  the  effective  mixture  of  comedy  and  tragedy  in  the 
Elizabethan  drama,  he  was  doubtless  alluding  to  Shakspere,  but  he  took 
care  not  to  mention  him ;  he  did  not  even  refer  to  any  one  of  his  plays  by 
name. 

Use  these  words  correctly  in  sentences  of  your  own. 

4.  Study  the  following  groups  of  words  as  in  Exercise  1:  — 
testimony,  verdict ;  team,  vehicle,  carriage ;  lie,  lay ;  sit,  set ; 
vertical,  perpendicular ;  demean,  degrade ;  notorious,  notable ; 
healthy,  healthful,  wholesome ;  tang,  twang ;  love,  like ;  depre- 
cate, depreciate  ;  impute,  impugn ;  luxurious,  luxuriant ;  calcu- 
late, intend  ;  purpose,  propose ;  transpire,  occur ;  affect,  effect. 

5.  Study  the  following  groups  of  words  in  the  same  way:  — 
liable,  likely  ;  plead,  argue  ;  invent,  discover ;  historic,  historical ; 
fire,  throw ;  learn,  teach ;  teacher,  professor ;  among,  between ; 
quite,  somewhat ;  definite,  definitive ;  without,  unless ;  person, 
party  ;  bring,  fetch,  carry  ;  settle,  pay. 

6.  Study  the  following  groups  in  the  same  way:  —  peer, 
paragon;  less,  fewer;  posted,  informed;  fine,  grand;  clever, 
good-tempered ;  guess,  think ;  lovely,  pretty ;  practical,  practica- 
ble ;  awfully,  very ;  ugly,  cross ;  right,  just ;  name,  mention ; 
intelligible,  intelligent ;  agree  with,  agree  to ;  change  for,  change 
with;  disappoint  in,  disappoint  of;  differ  with,  differ  from; 
confide  in,  confide  to ;  correspond  with,  correspond  to ;  part 
from,  part  with ;  compare  to,  compare  with. 

The  words  in  each  of  the  following  groups  are  worth  studying  with 
reference  to  distinction  of  meaning.  In  some  of  these  groups  an  inter- 
change  of  the  words  would  be  a  gross  violation  of  correctness;  in  others, 
usage  allows  it.  In  every  case,  however,  the  pupil  will  find  it  useful  to 
know  the  distinctions  that  may  bo  made. 

Hypothesis,  hypothecation;  right,  duty,  privilege,  prerogative;  estop, 
prevent  (p.  317) ;  fear,  apprehend,  reverent,  reverend;  exploit  (verb), 
display;  proud,  haughty;  truth,  honesty;  stay,  stop;  common,  vulgar; 
mad,  angry;  criticism,  censure;  copy,  counterpart;  restive,  restless; 
confuse,  confound;  simp,  store;  ask,  demand;  give,  bequeath;  leave, 
depart,  go  away;  prominent,  conspicuous,  distinguished;  mad.  street; 
ride,  drive;  idle,  lazy:  loiter,  saunter:  confess,  acknowledge;  old, 
ancient,  antique,  venerable;  strange,  queer,  odd,  quaint,  funny,  weird; 


442  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

guess,  reckon,  calculate,  consider,  allow,  think  (p.  312) ;  expect,  suspect, 
suppose ;  tragedy,  murder,  homicide ;  house,  home,  residence ;  atheist, 
deist,  skeptic,  infidel;  frank,  candid,  blunt,  plainspoken;  pretty,  hand- 
some, beautiful;  ubiquitous,  omnipresent;  college,  university,  school; 
see,  witness;  friend,  acquaintance;  trade,  business,  profession,  occupa- 
tion, vocation ;  attorney,  barrister,  counsel,  lawyer;  square,  rectaugular, 
oblong;  robber,  thief ;  bravery,  fortitude,  boldness;  cowardice,  timidity;  ' 
piteous,  pitiful,  pitiable,  compassionate,  sympathetic;  responsive,  respon- 
sible ;  sophistry,  fallacy ;  fortnightly,  biweekly ;  human,  mortal ;  poison- 
ous, venomous ;  perspicuous,  perspicacious ;  wise,  learned ;  artist,  artisan ; 
engine,  locomotive ;  act,  bill ;  partly,  partially ;  whole,  all ;  mother-in-law, 
stepmother;  hail,  address,  accost;  advise,  recommend;  nice,  agreeable, 
attractive ;  aggravate,  exasperate ;  antagonize,  oppose. 


APPENDIX 

COMMON   ERRORS    IX  ORAL   AND  WRITTEN 
COMPOSITION 

Violation  of  the  rules  of  grammar  proclaims  the  unlettered 
writer  or  speaker.  Since  our  use  of  language  is  largely  deter- 
mined by  imitation,  errors  often  repeated  by  others  may  slip  into 
our  own  speech.  Grammar  is  treated  in  "  The  Mother  Tongue," 
Book  II,  to  which  reference  may  be  made  if  necessary.  What 
follows  is  merely  a  summary  convenient  for  reference.  Debat- 
able constructions,  in  which  either  of  two  forms  is  allowed  by 
good  usage,  are  purposely  omitted. 

1.  Without  should  not  be  used  in  the  sense  of  unless,  nor  like 
in  the  sense  of  as.     The  following  sentences  are  correct :  — 


■& 


You  cannot  do  that  unless  I  help  you.     [Not:  without  I  help  you.] 

You  cannot  do  that  without  me. 

He  acted  like  a  madman. 

I  do  not  sew  as  you  do.     [Not:  like  you  do.] 

2.  The  superlative  degree  should  not  be  used  for  the  compar- 
ative. The  comparative  degree  refers  to  one  of  two  objects  or 
groups  of  objects;  the  superlative,  to  one  of  three  or  more  objects 
or  groups  of  objects. 

3.  Either  and  neither  should  not  be  used  in  place  of  any. 
Either  and  neither  are  used  in  referring  to  one  of  two:  any  or 
any  one  in  referring  to  one  of  three  or  more. 

4.  Sort  and  kind  should  be  preceded  by  the  singular  demon- 
strative and  not  by  the  plural.  Thus,  —  "this  sort,  or  kind,"  not 
these  ;  "  that  sort,  or  kind,"  not  those. 

443 


444  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

5.  The  article  should  not  be  inserted  in  a  phrase  which 
depends  upon  kind  or  sort.  We  should  say  "  this  kind  of  boy," 
not  "  this  kind  of  a  boy  "  ;  <<  this  manner  of  person,"  not  "  this 
manner  of  a  person";  "this  sort  of  thing,"  not  "this  sort  of  a 
thing." 

6.  The  case  forms  of  pronouns  should  conform  to  the  gram- 
matical structure  of  the  sentence.  Thus,  in  the  subject  con- 
struction, "  You  and  I  did  it " ;  "  We  boys  are  going  to  town," 
etc.  In  the  predicate  nominative  (or  attribute),  —  "  It  was  I 
(he,  she,  etc.),"  not  me,  him,  her;  "If  you  were  7,"  not  me;  in 
the  objective  case  after  a  preposition,  —  "It  is  between  you  and 
me  "  ;  "  He  sent  for  John  and  me." 

We  know  the  culprit  to  be  him.  [Objective,  agreeing  with  culprit,  the 
subject  of  the  infinitive.] 

We  know  that  the  culprit  is  he.     [Predicate  nominative  or  attribute.] 

The  culprit  was  known  to  be  he.  [Predicate  nominative  or  attri- 
bute.] 

I  felt  sure  of  its  being  he.  [Predicate  nominative  or  attribute ;  com- 
pare,—  I  felt  sure  that  it  was  he.] 

She  is  taller  than  I.     [That  is,  —  than  I  am.    Hence  the  nominative.] 

7.  The  genitive  (possessive)  case  of  the  noun  or  pronoun 
should  be  used  before  the  verbal  noun  in  -ing.     Thus,  — 

I  was  sure  of  its  being  he.     [Not :  it.] 

I  heard  of  John's  being  elected.     [Not  :  John.] 

8.  Their  should  not  refer  back  to  a  singular  noun  or  pro- 
noun.    Thus,  — 

Every  pupil  should  bring  his  own  book.     [Not:  their.] 
Each  oue  of  us  has  his  owu  troubles.     [Not:  their  or  our.] 

9.  In  such  sentences  as  the  following,  his  is  correct,1  but  not 
always  graceful :  — 

Every  boy  and  girl  should  attend  to  his  own  lesson.  [TTieir  would  be 
wrong ;  his  or  her  may  be  used  if  the  distiuctiou  of  gender  is  important.] 

1  In  such  sentences,  his  may  be  regarded  as  of  common  gender.  The 
construction  may  often  be  avoided  by  using  a  noun  like  person,  pupil,  or 
the  like,  which  applies  to  both  genders. 


COMMON  ERRORS  445 

10.  Who  and  whom  should  be  carefully  distinguished  in  con- 
struction.    Thus,  — 

The  man  who  hesitates  is  lost.     [Subject  of  hesitates.] 
The  man  whom  you  met  is  my  brother.     [Object  of  met.] 
W7io  is  that  odd-looking  person  ?    [Subject  of  is.] 
Whom  do  you  wish  to  see  ?     [Object  of  see.] 
Wliom  did  you  refer  to?    [Object  of  to.]1 

TT7io  do  you  think  I  am?  [Predicate  nominative  (attribute),  in  the 
same  case  as  /.] 

Whom  do  you  take  me  to  be  ?    [Predicate  objective  in  the  same  case  as 

me.] 

11.  Avoid  the  use  of  and  which  when  a  relative  construction 
does  not  precede.     The  following  sentence  is  ungrammatical :  — 

He  gave  me  a  number  of  flowers  of  great  beauty  and  which  had  rarely 
been  found  in  that  region.  [The  construction  demands  —  which  were  of 
great  beauty  and  which;  otherwise  the  conjunction  joins  incongruous 
constructions.] 

The  same  error  is  common  with  but  which. 

The  ungrammatical  use  of  and  which  is  very  common,  and  occurs  in 
good  authors.  It  should  be  avoided,  however  :  for,  even  if  it  is  defensi- 
ble on  the  ground  of  usage,  it  is  always  ungraceful. 

12.  After  look,  sound,  taste,  smell,  feel,  an  adjective  is  used  to 
describe  the  subject.     Thus,  — 

She  looks  beautiful.     [Not:  looks  beautifully.] 
The  bells  sound  harsh.     [Not:  sound  harshly.] 
My  luncheon  tastes  good.     [Not :  tastes  well.] 
The  flowers  smell  sweet.     [Not:  smell  sweetly.] 
Velvet  feels  smooth.     [Not:  feels  smoothly.] 

"I  feel  well,"  is  correct,  for  well  is  an  adjective  in  this  use. 

i  "  To  whom  did  you  refer?"  is  often  preferred,  but  this  order  is  too 
formal  for  habitual  use  in  ordinary  conversation.  The  best  writers  use 
the  less  formal  order  freely,  despite  the  objection  of  some  rhetoricians. 
The  preposition  at  the  end  of  the  clause  or  sentence  sometimes,  but  not 

always,  produces  an  awkward  effect.    No  rule  can  be  laid  down. 


446  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

13.  In  the  First  Person  shall,  not  will,  is  the  auxiliary  of  the 
Future  Tense  in  both  assertions  and  questions.  It  denotes  simple 
futurity,  without  expressing  willingness,  desire,  or  determination.1 

Will  in  the  First  Person  is  used  in  promising,  threatening, 
consenting,  and  expressing  resolution.  It  never  denotes  simple 
futurity. 

I  will  give  you  a  thousand  dollars  to  do  this.     [Promise.] 

/  will  shoot  the  first  man  that  runs.     [Threat.] 

I  will  accompany  you,  since  you  wish  it.     [Consent.] 

/  will  fight  it  out  on  this  line  if  it  takes  all  summer.     [Resolution.] 

I'll  and  we'll  stand  for  /  will  and  we  will,  and  are  proper  only 
when  /  toill  and  we  will  would  be  correct.  They  can  never  stand 
for  I  shall  and  we  shall. 

The  use  of  will  for  shall  in  the  first  person  of  the  future  is  a 
common  but  gross  error.     Thus,  — 

We  will  all  die  some  day.  [Wrong,  unless  what  one  means  is  "  We  are 
determined  to  die."     Say :  "  We  shall."] 

I  will  he  glad  to  help  you.     [Say :  "  I  shall  be  glad."] 

Such  expressions  as  I  shall  be  glad,  I  shall  be  willing,  I  shall  be 
charmed  to  do  this,  express  willingness  not  by  means  of  shall  but  in  the 
adjectives  glad,  willing,  charmed.  To  say  "I  will  be  glad  to  do  this," 
then,  would  be  wrong,  for  it  would  be  to  express  volition  twice.  Such  a 
sentence  could  only  mean  "  I  am  determined  to  be  glad  to  do  this." 

14.  In  the  Second  Person  shall  you  ?  not  will  you  ?  is  the  proper 
form  of  the  Future  Tense  in  questions. 

Will  you  ?  always  denotes  willingness,  consent,  or  determina- 
tion, and  never  simple  futurity. 

I.  Future  Tense  (simple  futurity). 

Shall  you  vote  for  Jackson  ?  [That  is,  Are  you  going  to  vote  for  him 
as  a  matter  of  fact?] 

Shall  you  try  to  win  the  prize? 

Shall  you  go  to  Paris  in  June  or  in  July? 

iNos.  13-15  are  from  "  The  Mother  Tongue,"  Book  II,  pp.  242-3. 


COMMON  ERRORS  447 

II    Vekb-phrase  denoting  "Willingness,  etc. 

Will  you  lend  me  ten  dollars  as  a  favor? 
Will  you  try  to  write  better? 
Will  you  insist  on  this  demand? 

15.  Shall  in  the  second  and  third  persons  is  not  the  sign  of  the 
future  tense  in  declarative  sentences. 

It  is  used  in  commanding,  promising,  threatening,  and  express- 
ing resolution,  the  volition  being  that  of  the  speaker.     Thus,  — 

Thou  shalt  not  steal.     [Command.] 

You  shall  have  a  dollar  if  you  run  this  errand.     [Promise.] 

You  shall  be  punished  if  you  defy  me.     [Threat.] 

He  shall  be  punished  if  he  defies  me.     [Threat.] 

You  shall  never  see  him  again.     [Determination.] 

He  shall  leave  the  house  instantly.     [Determination.] 

16.  In  indirect  discourse  shall  and  should  are  used  when  they 
would  have  been  used  in  direct  statement.     Thus,  — 

He  declares  that  he  shall  die  if  he  is  not  helped.     [Direct :  I  shall  die.] 
He  declared  that  he  should  die  if  he  were  not  helped.    [Direct :  I  shall.] 
You  say  you  should  like  to  see  him.     [Direct :  I  should  like.] 
I  promised  that  the  money  should  be  ready.     [Direct :  The  money  shall 

be  ready.] 

Thomson  says  that  he  will  not  pay  this  bill.     [Direct:  I  will  not.] 
You  promised  that  you  would  help  me.     [Direct:  I  will.] 

17.  The  tenses  of  the  subordinate  clauses  of  a  complex  sentence 
and  of  dependent  relatives  must  be  adjusted  to  the  tense  of  the 
principal  verb,  and  to  the  meaning  of  the  sentence. 

Inserting  a  definite  adverb  or  adverbial  phrase  of  time  will 
often  help  you  to  decide  which  tense  you  should  use. 

In  the  sentence  "They  learned  that  a  stitch  in  time  saves 
nine,"  if  you  mean  that  they  learned  the  general  truth  that  a 
stitch  in  time  saves  nine,  saves  is  correct.  If  you  refer  to  one  past 
instance  only,  you  should  use  saved. 

"I  thought  that  he  ought  to  have  done  it"  and  "I  thought  that  he 
ought  to  do  it"  are  both  correct;  but  they  are  not  interchangeable,  since 
they  convey  different  ideas. 


448  COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 

18.  Words  necessary  to  the  construction  must  not  be  omitted. 

I  have  not  done  it  and  I  will  not  do  it.     [Not :  I  have  not,  and  I  will  not 

do  it.] 

a.  In  written  language,  sentences  should  not  end  with  the 

sign  of  the  infinitive.  Thus,  —  "I  could  learn  in  an 
hour  all  that  I  cared  to  "  might  pass  in  conversation, 
but  it  is  not  accurate  enough  for  written  language. 
"  All  that  I  cared  to  learn"  would  properly  complete 
the  sentence. 

b.  In  a  long  sentence,  it  sometimes  happens  that  the  predi- 

cate verb  is  actually  omitted,  on  account  of  the  trail- 
ing dependent  clauses  which  arrest  the  thought  of 
the  speaker  or  writer.  Be  sure  that  you  can  instantly 
point  out  the  main  clause,  with  its  subject  and  its  verb, 
in  every  sentence  that  you  write.  If  you  hesitate,  it 
is  a  sign  that  your  sentence  needs  to  be  rewritten. 

c.  Omission  of  the  subject  should  be  restricted  to  the  tele- 

graphic style.  "  Yours  received.  Ought  to  have 
written  before.  Will  send  the  goods  immediately," 
is  too  curt  to  be  either  polite  or  elegant. 

19.  The  participle,  being  grammatically  an  adjective,  must 
belong  to  a  substantive  expressed  in  the  sentence. 

I  sent  you  back  the  "  Quarterly  "  without  perusal,  having  resolved  to 
read  no  more  reviews.  [Not:  The  "Quarterly"  was  sent  hack  without 
perusal,  having  resolved  to  read  no  more  reviews.] 

A  few  participles  may  he  idiomatically  used  without  a  noun  in  agree- 
ment. Such  are  considering,  regarding,  concerning,  owing  to,  which  are 
practically  prepositions.  Speaking  is  also  used  independently  in  a  few 
phrases:  as,  — " generally  speaking,"  "strictly  speaking:'  Supposing 
is  also  defensible,  but  suppose  is  neater. 

Due  to  should  not  be  used  for  owing  to  in  such  a  sentence  as  the  follow- 
ing: —  "  Owing  to  the  severe  weather,  observations  could  not  be  taken." 

20.  The  verb  should  agree  with  its  subject  in  person  and 
number.  To  avoid  error,  keep  the  subject  clearly  in  mind  in 
every  sentence.  Take  care  that  the  verb  is  not  so  widely  sep 
arated  from  the  subject  that  the  connection  is  lost. 


COMMON   ERRORS  449 

a.  When  the  subject  may  be  regarded  as  either  singular 

or  plural,  the  same  construction  should  be  maintained 
throughout  the  passage.  In  every  sentence  which 
has  for  its  subject  a  collective  noun,  be  on  your 
guard  against  any  change  of  number  either  in  the 
verb  or  in  pronouns  referring  to  the  subject. 

b.  A  "  compound  subject,"  composed  of  nouns  or  pronouns 

connected  by  and,  or,  or  nor,  demands  careful  atten- 
tion to  the  verb.  When  the  parts  of  the  subject 
are  joined  by  or  or  nor,  the  verb  is  singular.  When 
they  are  joined  by  and,  the  verb  is  almost  always 
plural. 

c.  Difficulties  in  the  use  of  compound  subjects  may  some- 

times be  obviated  by  the  use  of  with  or  as  well  as. 
Thus,  —  "  Night  air,  together  with  draughts,  is  the 
bugbear  of  fearful  patients."  Note  that  the  singular 
is  the  only  defensible  form  in  this  case. 

21.  Modifying  words  and  phrases  should  be  so  placed  that 
there  can  be  no  question  as  to  the  word  they  modify.  If  there  is 
any  doubt,  the  sentence  should  be  rearranged  or  rewritten. 

A  horse  having  a  beautiful  tail  and  mane  stood  at  the  post.  [Not:  A 
horse  stood  at  the  post  having  a  beautiful  tail  and  mane.] 

22.  Pronouns  should  be  so  used  that  there  can  be  no  doubt  to 
what  person  or  thing  each  refers.  If  there  is  any  doubt,  it  is 
always  better  to  insert  another  word  or  to  rearrange  the  sentence. 

The  doctor  told  his  brother  that  the  latter  could  not  go  out  on  account 
of  the  rain.    Or, — 

The  doctor,  speaking  to  his  brother,  said,  "  I  cannot  go  out  on  account 
of  the  weather."  [Not:  The  doctor  told  his  brother  that  he  could  not  go 
out  on  account  of  the  weather.] 

23.  Only  should  be  so  placed  in  the  sentence  that  there  can  be 
no  doubt  what  word  or  phrase  it  modifies. 

"  My  sister  and  I  go  only  to  concerts  in  the  evening,"  means  that  we 
go  nowhere  else. 


450  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

"  Only  my  sister  and  I  go  to  concerts  in  the  evening,"  means  that  no 
one  else  in  the  family  goes. 

"  My  sister  and  I  go  to  concerts  in  the  evening  only,"  means  that  we 
do  not  go  in  the  daytime. 

Good  usage  does  not  fix  absolutely  the  position  of  only  with  respect 
to  the  word  that  it  modifies.  There  is  but  one  safe  rule:  —  "Shun 
ambiguity."     If  this  is  observed,  the  pupil  may  feel  secure. 

24.  An  adverb  should  not  be  placed  between  the  infinitive  and 
its  sign  (to).     The  following  sentences  are  correct :  — 

It  is  my  wish  never  to  see  him  again. 

The  antelope  began  to  run  swiftly  across  the  plain.  [Not:  The  ante- 
lope began  to  swiftly  run  across  the  plain.] 

The  "  split  infinitive  "  is  sometimes  used  by  good  writers ;  but  it  is  not 
authorized  by  the  general  usage  of  the  best  authors. 

25.  The  article  or  the  possessive  should  be  repeated  with  two 
or  more  connected  nouns  or  adjectives  whenever  clearness  or  pre- 
cision requires  it.     Thus,  — 

I  will  confer  with  the  secretary  and  the  treasurer. 

In  such  sentences  as  the  following  no  repetition  is  necessary, 
since  no  confusion  is  possible :  — 

I  will  ask  all  the  boys  and  girls  in  my  class. 
He  was  very  fond  of  his  father  and  mother. 

When  you  are  in  doubt,  however,  it  is  safer  to  repeat. 

Hard-and-fast  rules  calling  for  the  repetition  in  sentences  like  those 
just  quoted  are  common  in  text-books  but  not  justified  by  good  usage. 

When  the  second  noun  is  followed  by  a  modifier  which  does 
not  belong  to  the  first,  the  article  or  pronoun  should  be  repeated, 
for  clearness.     Thus, — 

I  have  little  doubt  but  that,  if  an  arm  or  leg  could  have  been  taken  off 
with  as  little  pain  as  attends  the  amputation  of  a  curl  or  a  lock  of  hair,  the 
natural  limb  would  have  been  thought  less  becoming,  or  less  convenient, 
by  some  men,  than  a  wooden  one,  and  have  been  disposed  of  accordingly. 
—  Cowper. 


PHRASES  451 

PHRASES 

1.  A  phrase  is  a  group  of  connected  words,  not  containing  a 
subject  and  a  predicate:  as,  —  a  friend  of  mankind;  with  all 
his  might;  following  the  flag;  will  be  killed. 

Phrases    are    classified    as    noun    phrases,    adjective    phrases, 

adverbial  phrases,  and  verb  phrases,   according  to  the  parts  of 

speech  for  which  they  stand.     Thus,  — 

The  cause  of  the  fire  is  unknown.     [Noun  phrase.] 

A  man  of  honor  [=  an  honorable  man]  will  not  lie.     [Adjective  phrase.] 

He  came  with  speed  [=  speedily].     [Adverbial  phrase.] 

This  river  must  be  crossed.     [Verb  phrase.] 

A  phrase  consisting  of  a  preposition  and  its  object  may  be 
called  a  prepositional  phrase. 

A  phrase  consisting  of  a  participle  and  its  object  or  modifiers 
may  be  called  a  participial  phrase. 

A  phrase  consisting  of  an  infinitive  and  its  object  or  modifiers 
may  be  called  an  infinitive  phrase. 

2.  Prepositional  phrases  may  be  either  adjective  or  adverbial. 

I.  Adjective  Phrases 

The  balustrades  of  the  staircase  were  of  carved  wood. 

The  gentleness  of  heaven  is  on  the  sea. 

What  do  we  look  for  in  studying  the  history  of  a  past  age? 

A  man  with  a  dirty  foraging  cap  on  his  head  came  running  up  to  me. 

The  western  wall  was  quite  in  ruins. 

Children  love  to  listen  to  stories  about  their  elders. 

The  first  of  these  gentlemen  was  somewhat  above  the  middle  height. 

II.  Adverbial  Phrases 

I  will  answer  him  as  clearly  as  I  am  able,  and   ivith  great  openness. 

Every  man  went  daily  to  his  coffee-house. 

In  winter  bis  chair  was  always  in  the  warmest  nook. 

They  were  in  the  habit  of  dividing  the  year  hctu-ecn  tmen  and  country 

Loathsome  creatures  seemed  to  sil  close  beside  him  on  cither  /mud. 

His  letters  to  bis  friends  are  full  of  courage. 

She  turned  her  steps  towards  town. 

Her  imagination  dwelt  complacently  >>n  the  iilea. 

Since  liis  marriage  Mr.  Philip  had  been  pretty  fortunate. 


452  COMPOSITION   AND  RHETORIC 

3.  Participial  phrases  are  common  as  adjective  modifiers. 
Thus,  — - 

These  are  evils  belonging  specifically  to  a  monarchy. 
To  the  other  ladies  boarding  at  Madame' s  establishment  the  General  was 
provokingly  polite. 

The  reasoning  elephant  went  away,  rejoicing  in  his  neio  possession. 

And  so,  followed  by  his  people,  he  rode  away. 

Warned  by  former  experience,  I  did  not  now  embark  in  a  small  boat. 

The  son,  bred  in  sloth  and  idleness,  becomes  a  spendthrift. 

Pursued  by  the  fiend  Remorse,  he  tied  early  from  his  house. 

I  found  him  preparing  to  go  to  Westminster  Hall. 

For  the  idiomatic  use  of  a  few  participles  as  prepositions  or  adverbial 
modifiers,  see  p.  448. 

4.  Infinitive  phrases  may  be  used  as  nouns,  as  adjectives,  or 
as  adverbs.     Thus,  — 

I.   As  Nouns 

To  make  a  government  requires  no  great  prudence.    [Subject.] 

To  be  (has  is  nothing. 

To  be  strong-backed  and  neat-bound  is  the  desideratum  of  a  volume. 
Magnificence  comes  after. 

Not  to  go  back,  is  somewhat  to  advance. 

His  care  now  was  to  furnish  us  with  refreshments.  [Predicate 
nominative.] 

The  one  thing  which  we  seek  is  to  forget  ourselves. 

The  infinitive  or  infinitive  phrase  is  especially  common  in  the  predicate 
when  the  so-called  "  expletive  it  "  is  used  as  the  formal  subject  (as,  —  It 
would  have  done  any  man's  heart  good  to  see  their  merriment).  Here  the 
infinitive  phrase,  though  the  logical  subject,  may  be  regarded  as  gram- 
matically in  apposition  with  it. 

II.  As  Adjective  Modifiers 

I  have  nothing  to  suggest. 

I  felt  very  slight  inclination  to  leave  the  town  behind. 
There  is  not  much  in  the  appearance  of  the  Guadalquivir  to  interest  the 
traveller. 

I  had  very  little  pleasure  to  anticipate  from  novelty  of  scenery. 
What  reason  have  you  to  complain  of  your  entertainment? 
He  shall  have  my  authority  to  carve  it  upon  the  Great  Pyramid. 
A  door  is  to  be  painted,  a  lock  to  be  repaired. 


CLAUSES  453 


III.  As  Adverbial  Modifiers 

We  aim  above  the  mark,  to  hit  the  mark.    [Purpose.] 

This  force  sailed  to  invade  the  Lowlands. 

I  feel  willing  to  release  you.     [Modifying  an  adjective.] 

The  plan  is  not  likely  to  be  successful. 

I  am  not  able  to  decide  the  question. 

He  wished  to  write  in  my  stead.     [Complementary.] 

Now  for  the  first  time  I  seem  to  know  anything  rightly. 

Argyle  proceeded  to  appoint  officers. 

An  infinitive  or  infinitive  phrase  may  modify  a  verb  by  completing  its 
meaning  (as, —  I  desire  to  see  you),  or  by  expressing  the  purpose  of  the 
action  (as,  — I  have  come  to  see  you).  In  the  former  construction  it  is 
called  the  complementary  infinitive.  After  some  verbs,  the  infinitive 
approaches  the  construction  of  a  pure  noun.  In  such  case  it  is  often 
regarded  as  the  object  of  the  verb.  Thus,  —  I  desire  to  see  you  (compare, 
I  desire  a  sight  of  you).  It  is  simpler,  however,  to  regard  all  such  infini- 
tives as  complementary  phrases  and  to  treat  them  as  adverbial  modifiers. 
For  it  is  impossible  to  distinguish  the  construction  of  the  infinitive  after 
certain  adjectives  (for  example,  I  am  eager  to  see  you)  from  its  construction 
after  such  verbs  as  wish  and  desire. 


CLAUSES 

5.  A  clause  is  a  group  of  words  that  forms  part  of  a  sentence 
and  that  contains  a  subject  and  a  predicate :  as,  — 

The  ladder  fell  and  the  painter  was  injured. 

I  will  come  if  you  wish. 

The  dog  barked  when  he  saw  the  burglar. 

The  command  was  given  to  Elphinstone,  who  had  proved  himself  more 
disposed  to  argue  than  to  fight. 

A  clause  may  be  either  independent  or  dependent  (or  sub- 
ordinate). 

A  clause  is  independent  when  it  could  stand  alone  as  a  com- 
plete sentence.  It  is  dependent  (or  subordinate)  when  it  is  used 
as  a  noun,  as  an  adjective  modifier,  or  as  an  adverbial  modifier. 

Two  or  more  independent  clauses  are  coordinate  when  they 
stand  in  the  same  sentence  :  as,  — 

The  door  opened  |  and  |  the  little  gentle, mm  entered  the  room. 


454  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

6.  A  compound  sentence  consists  of  two  or  more  coordinate 
clauses,  which  may  or  may  not  be  joined  by  means  of  conjunc- 
tions.   Thus,  — 

We  see  the  noble  suffer  afar  off,  |  and  |  they  repel  us :  |  why  should  we 
intrude  ? 

James  was  unusually  discomfited ;  |  he  eveu  shed  tears. 

Only  four  officers  were  left;  |  the  stock  of  provisions  was  scanty;  | 
and  |  the  commander  was  a  young  man  of  five  and  tweuty. 

He  may  be  right  or  wrong  in  his  opinion,  |  but  [  he  is  too  clear-headed 
to  be  unjust. 

The  only  reward  of  virtue  is  virtue ;  |  the  only  way  to  have  a  friend  is 
to  be  one. 

We  talk  of  choosing  our  friends,  |  but  |  friends  are  self-elected. 

A  river  overflows  and  turns  a  fruitful  plain  into  a  marsh ;  |  or  |  it  fails, 
and  turns  it  into  a  sandy  desert. 

And,  but,  for,1  and  neither  .  .  .  nor,  connect  coordinate  clauses  and  are 
called  coordinate  conjunctions. 

7.  A  complex  sentence  consists  of  two  or  more  clauses,  at  least 
one  of  which  is  siibordinate  :   as,  — 

I  was  on  the  third  floor  when  the  fire  broke  out. 

A  subordinate  clause  may  be  introduced  by  (1)  a  relative  or 
an  interrogative  pronoun,  (2)  a  relative  or  an  interrogative  adverb, 
(3)  a  subordinate  conjunction. 

The  relative  pronouns  are :  who,  which,  what,  that  (=  v)ho  or  which),  as 
(after  such),  and  the  compound  relatives  whoever,  whichever,  whatever, 
whosoever,  whichsoever,  whatsoever. 

The  chief  relative  adverbs  are:  when,  whenever,  since,  until,  before, 
after,  where,  whence,  whither,  wherever,  why,  as,  how. 

The  interrogative  pronouns  are:  who,  which,  what. 

The  interrogative  adverbs  are :  ivhen,  where,  whence,  whither,  how,  why. 

The  most  important  subordinate  conjunctions  are:  because,  since 
(-  because),  though,  although,  if,  unless,  that  (in  order  that,  so  that), 
lest,  as,  as  if,  as  though,  than,  whether. 

1  For  is  sometimes  regarded  as  a  subordinate  conjunction ;  but  the  fact 
that  it  often  introduces  an  independent  sentence,  or  even  a  paragraph,  is 
a  sufficient  proof  that  it  is  really  coordinate.  Thus  Matthew  Arnold  opens 
a  paragraph  as  follows:  —  "  For  the  practical  man  is  not  apt  for  fine  dis- 
tinctions, and  yet  in  these  distinctions  truth  and  the  highest  culture  greatly 
find  their  account." 


CLAUSES  455 

8.  Subordinate  clauses  may  be  used  (1)  as  substantives,  (2)  as 
adjective  modifiers,  (3)  as  adverbial  modifiers.    Thus,  — 

(1)  That  nothing  can  come  of  nothing  is  an  old  proverb. 

(2)  The  town  where  I  live  is  called  Milton. 

(3)  He  sprang  up  when  he  heard  the  cry. 

9.  A  substantive  clause  may  be  used  as  subject,  as  object,  as 
predicate  nominative,  or  as  appositive.    Thus,  — 

Tliat  he  never  will,  is  sure.     [Subject.] 

How  I  fared  will  presently  be  seen. 

That  the  kind  of  fear  here  treated  of  is  purely  spiritual  —  that  it  is 
strong  in  proportion  as  it  is  objectless  upon  earth  —  that  it  predominates 
in  the  period  of  sinless  infancy — are  difficulties  the  solution  of  which 
might  afford  some  probable  insight  into  our  ante-mundane  condition,  and 
a  peep  at  least  into  the  shadow-land  of  preexistence. 

I  knew  by  their  looks  that  they  had  been  promised  something  great. 
[Direct  Object.] 

Experience  taught  the  King  of  Bantam  that  water  cannot  become  solid. 

He  asked  whether  I  understood  Portuguese. 

He  did  not  know  in  what  light  Ms  friends  would  regard  his  escapade. 

Whether  all  this  contrivance  be  necessary,  I  do  not  know. 

Much  depends  on  whgnMnd  ivhe.re  you  read  a  book.  [Object  of  on.] 

The  objection  is  that  it  scatters  your  force.    [Predicate  nominative.] 

It  is  no  wonder  that  echoes  should  abound.    [Appositive  with  it.] 

It  may  be  said  that  true  wisdom  consists  in  the  ready  and  accurate 
perception  of  analogies. 

The  fact  that  he  was  absent  was  not  noticed.    [Appositive] 

In  one  thing  I  must  ask  to  be  forgiven,  that  I  talk  more  sparingly  of 
home  affairs. 

10.  The  commonest  kind  of  adjective  clause  is  that  introduced 
by  a  relative  pronoun.  This  clause  has  two  uses:  —  (1)  to  add 
a  merely  descriptive  fact  (as,  —  The  ship  sailed  from  Naples,  which 
is  in  Italy)  ;  (2)  to  restrict  the  application  of  the  antecedent  (as, 
—  He  sat  down  in  the  chair  which  was  nearest). 

(1)  Cochrane,  ivho  wanted  provisions,  was  determined  to  land. 

These  people  have  for  several  generations  lived  distinct  from  the  great 
mass  of  the  community,  like  the  gypsies  of  Europe,  whom  they  closely 
resemble. 

The  wise  know  that  foolish  legislation  is  a  rope  of  sand,  which  perishes 
in  the  twisting. 

Isaac  was  seized  with  a  invar,  from  which  he  slowly  recovered. 


456  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

(2)  Of  all  the  poets  who  have  introduced  into  their  works  the  agency  of 
supernatural  beings,  Milton  has  succeeded  best. 

I  will  not  attempt  to  describe  the  scene  of  horror  and  confusion  which 
ensued. 

The  first  lesson  in  reading  well  is  that  which  teaches  us  to  distinguish 
between  literature  and  merely  printed  matter. 

The  person  who  screams,  or  uses  the  superlative  degree,  or  converses 
with  heat,  puts  whole  drawing  rooms  to  flight. 

There  was  something  about  it  that  did  not  entirely  please  me. 

11.  The  principal  ideas  expressed  by  subordinate  clauses  may 
be  classified  under  (1)  time  or  place,  (2)  cause,  (3)  concession, 
(4)  purpose,  (5)  result,  (6)  condition,  (7)  comparison  (or  man- 
ner and  degree),  (8)  indirect  statement,  (9)  indirect  question. 

I.  Time  or  Place 
[The  first  five  examples  are  adjective  clauses,  the  rest  are  adverbial.] 

You  are  now  arrived  at  an  age  when  pleasure  dissuades  from  application. 

The  morning  arrived  on  which  we  were  to  entertain  our  young  landlord. 

A  garret  is  like  a  seashore,  where  wrecks  are  thrown  up  and  slowly  go 
to  pieces. 

I  know  of  no  country  where  the  influence  of  climate  is  more  visible. 

About  half  a  mile  from  the  wall  is  a  fountain,  where  the  mideteers 
water  their  animals. 

When  a  lady  speaks,  it  is  not  civil  to  make  her  wait  for  an  answer. 

Dr.  Acton  came  down  ichile  Iivas  there. 

As  we  were  thus  engaged,  we  saw  a  stag  bound  nimbly  by. 

As  soon  as  we  arrive  at  Moscoio,  you  shall  be  informed. 

We  drove  leisurely  along  till  we  came  to  the  brow  of  a  steep  hill. 

I  had  to  proceed  three  leagues  before  I  cotdd  reach  the  hostelry. 

They  divided  the  skin  before  they  had  taken  the  beast. 

Why,  after  the  king  had  consented  to  so  many  reforms,  did  the  Parlia- 
ment continue  to  rise  in  their  demands  ? 

II.  Cause 

Their  speech  was  noble  because  they  lunched  with  Plutarch  and  supped 
with  Plato. 

Since  age  and  infirmity  forbid  my  appearance  at  such  public  places, 
the  next  happiness  is  to  make  the  best  use  of  privacy. 

I  was  pleased  with  the  poor  man's  friendship  for  two  reasons,  — because 
I  knew  that  he  wanted  mine,  and  because  I  knew  him  to  be  friendly. 

As  it  remained  with  me  to  make  them  happy,  I  readily  gave  a  promise. 


CLAUSES  457 


III.    Concession 

Tlwugh  this  be  madness,  yet  there's  method  in  't. 

Nature  is  always  consistent,  though  she  feigns  to  contravene  her 
own  lai/s. 

Yet ,  paltry  as  these  matters  are,  they  make  a  subject  of  debate  wherever 
I  go. 

Although  you  are  my  friend,  I  aninot  blind  to  your  faults. 

Even  if  you  do  your  best,  success  is  doubtful. 

IV.  Purpose  x 

The  captain  hastened  to  the  castle  in  order  that  the  plot  might  be 
frustrated. 

He  saved  all  he  could,  so  that  he  might  have  comfort  in  his  old  age. 

I  am  merry  that  I  may  decoy  people  into  my  company,  and  grave  that 
they  may  be  the  better  for  it. 

He  feared  to  stir,  lest  he  should  awaken  his  captors. 

V.  Result  2 

You  are  so  slender,  and  take  up  so  little  room,  that  you  are  sure  of  a 
place. 

He  became  at  length  so  confident  of  his  force,  so  collected  in  his  might, 
that  he  made  no  secret  whatsoever  of  his  dreadful  resolution. 

The  sale  of  books  was  so  small  that  an  author  could  expect  but  a 
pittance. 

There  was  such  a  crowd  that  our  progress  was  very  sloiv. 

VI.  Condition 

If  a  dog  howls  dolefully  at  night,  it  is  looked  upon  as  a  sure  sign  of 
death. 

If  you  mean  to  follow  your  true  motive,  give  up  your  tax  on  tea  for 
raising  a  revenue. 

Ifvje  cannot  extinguish,  let  us  at  least  suspend  our  animosities. 

If  any  dixpute  arises,  they  apply  to  him  for  decision. 

(  hip  an  extinguisher  upon  your  irony,  if  you  are  unhappily  blessed  with 
a  vein  of  it. 

If  I  have  not  sooner  made  answer  to  your  kind  enquiries,  it  has  been 
owing  to  the  uncertainty  I  was  under. 

1  Purpose  is  often  expressed  by  the  infinitive  (p.  153). 

2  Result  is  often  expressed  by  tin-  infinitive  with  so  as  (for  example,— 
They  were  so  civil  as  not  to  search  my  pockets). 


458  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

If  I  shall  happen  to  mistake  in  any  fact  of  consequence,  I  desire  my 
remarks  upon  it  may  pass  for  nothing. 

If  this  be  not  violent  exercise  for  the  mind,  I  know  not  what  is. 

If  you  would  see  the  humor  of  a  coquette  pushed  to  the  last  excess,  you 
may  find  an  instance  of  it  in  the  following  story. 

The  annals  of  this  voracious  beach!  who  could  write  them,  unless  it 
were  a  shipwrecked  sailor. 

"  Unless  this  is  done,"  said  he,  "  I  shall  not  sleep  quietly  in  my  grave." 

VII.  Comparison 

The  first  time  I  read  an  excellent  book,  it  is  to  me  just  as  if  I  had 
gained  a  new  friend. 

You  do  indeed  love  these  things,  so  far  as  you  care  about  art  at  all. 

The  public  character  of  Milton  must  be  approved  or  condemned  accord- 
ing as  the  resistance  of  the  people  to  Charles  I  shall  appear  to  be  justifi- 
able or  criminal. 

The  more  trifling  the  subject  is,  the  more  he  has  to  say. 

VIII.  Indirect  Statement 

You  will  undoubtedly  assert  that  such  a  stipend  is  too  great. 

I  confess  that  I  do  feel  the  differences  of  mankind. 

Ke  perceives  that  he  should  have  been  more  cool. 

They  thought  they  had  an  excellent  opportunity  to  practice  imposition. 

It  is  said  that  Portia  swalloived  fire. 

The  report  that  the  battle  was  lost  proved  false. 

That  time  is  money  is  a  familiar  saying. 

IX.   Indirect  Question 

How  many  were  killed  is  uncertain. 

It  is  debated  whether  arts  and  sciences  are  more  beneficial  or  preju- 
dicial to  mankind. 

What  the  gardens  of  the  Hesperides  were,  we  have  little  or  no  account. 

Mliat  dignity  is  derived  from  the  perseverance  in  absurdity,  is  more 
than  ever  I  could  discern. 

I  asked  him  if  in  his  journeys  he  had  never  been  attacked  by  robbers. 

Hunt  asked  what  sort  of  wife  Philip  had  married. 

He  demanded  of  the  fellow  hoio  he  dared  to  touch  the  baggage. 


CAPITAL  LETTERS  459 

USE   OF   CAPITAL   LETTEKS 

1.  Every  sentence  begins  with  a  capital  letter. 

2.  Every  line  of  poetry  begins  with  a  capital  letter. 

3.  The  first  word  of  every  direct  quotation  begins  with  a 
capital  letter. 

Note.  —  This  rule  does  not  apply  to  quoted  fragments  of  sentences. 

4.  Every  proper  noun  or  abbreviation  of  a  proper  noun  begins 
with  a  capital  letter. 

5.  Most  adjectives  derived  from  proper  nouns  begin  with 
capital  letters:  as,  —  American,  Indian,   Swedish,  Spenserian. 

Note.  —  Some  adjectives  derived  from  proper  nouns  have  ceased  to  he 
closely  associated  in  thought  with  the  nouns  from  which  they  come,  and 
therefore  begin  with  small  letters.  Thus,  —  voltaic,  galvanic,  mesmeric, 
maudlin,  stentorian. 

6.  Every  title  attached  to  the  name  of  a  person  begins  with 
a  capital  letter. 

7.  In  titles  of  books,  etc.,  the  first  word,  as  well  as  every 
important  word  that  follows,  begins  with  a  capital  letter. 

8.  The  interjection  O  and  the  pronoun  /  are  always  written 
in  capital  letters. 

9.  Personal    pronouns    referring    to    the    Deity    are    often 
capitalized. 

Note.  —  Usage  varies:  the  personal  pronouns  are  commonly  capital- 
ized, the  relatives  less  frequently.  The  rule  is  often  disregarded  altogether 
when  its  observance  would  result  in  a  multitude  of  capitals;  so  in  the 
Bible  and  in  many  hymn  books  and  works  of  theology. 

10.  Common  nouns  and  adjectives  often  begin  with  capital 
letters  when  they  designate  the  topics  or  main  points  of  defini- 
tions or  similar  statements.  Such  capitals  are  called  emphatic 
(or  topical)  capitals. 

Note.  —  Emphatic  (or  topical)  capitals  are  analogous  to  capitals  in  the 
titles  of  books  'sic  Kulo  7),  but  their  use  is  not  obligatory.  They  are 
especially  common  in  text-books  and  other  elementary  manuals. 


460  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

KULES    OF   PUNCTUATION1 

The  common  marks  of  punctuation  are  the  period,  the  interro- 
gation point,  the  exclamation  point,  the  comma,  the  semicolon, 
the  colon,  the  dash,  marks  of  parenthesis,  and  quotation  marks. 
The  hyphen  and  the  apostrophe  may  be  conveniently  treated 
along  with  marks  of  punctuation. 


1.  The  period,  the  interrogation  point,  and  the  exclamation 
point  are  used  at  the  end  of  sentences.  Every  complete  sentence 
must  be  followed  by  one  of  these  three  marks. 

The  end  of  a  declarative  or  an  imperative  sentence  is  marked 
by  a  period.  But  a  declarative  or  an  imperative  sentence  that  is 
likewise  exclamatory  may  be  followed  by  an  exclamation  point 
instead  of  a  period. 

The  end  of  a  direct  question  is  marked  by  an  interrogation 
point. 

An  exclamatory  sentence  in  the  form  of  an  indirect  question 
is  followed  by  an  exclamation  point :  as,  —  "  How  absolute  the 
knave  is !  " 

2.  A  period  is  used  after  an  abbreviation. 

3.  An  exclamation  point  is  used  after  an  exclamatory  word  or 
phrase. 

Note.  —  This  rule  is  not  absolute.  Most  interjections  take  the  exclama- 
tion point.  With  other  words  and  with  phrases,  usage  differs ;  if  strong 
feeling  is  expressed,  the  exclamation  point  is  commonly  used,  but  too  many 
such  marks  deface  the  page. 

1  The  main  rules  of  punctuation  are  well  fixed  and  depend  on  important 
distinctions  in  sentence  structure  and  consequently  in  thought.  In  detail, 
however,  there  is  much  variety  of  usage,  and  care  should  be  taken  not 
to  insist  on  such  uniformity  in  the  pupils'  practice  as  is  not  found  in  the 
printed  books  which  they  use.  If  young  writers  can  be  induced  to  indicate 
the  ends  of  their  sentences  properly,  much  has  been  accomplished. 


PUNCTUATION  4G1 

II 

The  comma  is  used  — 

1.  After  a  noun  (or  a  phrase)  of  direct  address  (a  vocative 
nominative). 

Note  1.— If  the  noun  is  exclamatory,  an  exclamation  point  may  be 
used  instead  of  a  comma. 

Note  2.  —  For  the  punctuation  after  the  salutation  in  a  letter,  see 
p.  403. 

2.  Before  a  direct  quotation  in  a  sentence.     Thus,  — 

The  cry  ran  through  the  ranks,  "  Are  we  never  to  move  forward  ?  " 

Note.  — "When  the  quotation  is  long  or  formal,  a  colon,  or  a  colon  and  a 
dash,  may  be  used  instead  of  a  comma,  especially  with  the  words  as  follows. 

3.  After  a  direct  quotation  when  this  is  the  subject  or  the 
object  of  a  following  verb.     Thus, — 

"  They  are  coming;  the  attack  will  be  made  on  the  centre,"  said  Lord 
Fitzroy  Somerset. 

"  I  see  it,"  was  the  cool  reply  of  the  duke. 

Note.  —  If  the  quotation  ends  with  an  interrogation  point  or  an 
exclamation  point,  no  comma  is  used. 

4.  To  separate  words,  or  groups  of  words,  arranged  in  a  coor- 
dinate series,  when  these  are  not  connected  by  and,  or,  or  nor. 

If  the  conjunction  is  used  to  connect  the  last  two  members  of 
the  series  but  omitted  with  the  others,  the  comma  may  be  used 
before  the  conjunction. 

I  found  two  saws,  an  axe,  and  a  hammer. 

They  were  so  shy,  so  subtle,  and  so  swift  of  foot,  that  it  was  difficult 
to  come  at  them. 

It  would  make  the  reader  pity  me  to  tell  what  odd,  misshapen,  ugly 
things  I  made. 

They  groaned,  they  stirred,  they  all  uprose. 

Note  1.  —  Commas  may  be  used  even  when  conjunctions  are  expressed, 
if  the  members  of  the  series  consist  of  several  words,  or  if  the  writer 
wishes  to  emphasize  their  distinctness. 

Note  2. —  Clauses  in  a  series  are  commonly  separated  by  semicolons 
unless  they  are  short  and  simple  (see  p.  464). 


462  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

5.  To  set  off  words  and  phrases  out  of  their  regular  order. 
Thus,  — 

Seated  on  her  accustomed  chair,  with  her  usual  air  of  apathy  and  want 
of  interest  in  what  surrounded  her,  she  seemed  now  and  then  mechanically 
to  resume  the  motion  of  twirling  her  spindle.  —  Scott. 

6.  To  separate  a  long  subject  from  the  verb  of  the  predicate. 
Thus,  — 

To  have  passed  them  over  in  an  historical  sketch  of  my  literary  life  and 
opinions,  would  have  seemed  to  me  like  the  denial  of  a  debt.  — Coleridge. 

7.  To  set  off  an  appositive  noun  or  an  appositive  adjective, 
with  its  modifiers.     Thus,  — 

I  have  had  the  most  amusing  letter  from  Hogg,  the  Ettrick  minstrel. 

There  was  an  impression  upon  the  public  mind,  natural  enough  from 
the  continually  augmenting  velocity  of  the  mail,  but  quite  erroneous,  that 
an  outside  seat  on  this  class  of  carriages  was  a  post  of  danger. 

De  Quincey. 

Note  1.  —  Many  participial  and  other  adjective  phrases  come  under  this 
head.     Thus,  — 

The  genius,  seeing  me  indulge  myself  on  this  melancholy  prospect,  told 
me  I  had  dwelt  long  enough  upon  it.  — Addison. 

Note  2.  —  If  a  noun  and  its  appositive  are  so  closely  connected  as  to 
form  one  idea,  no  comma  is  used.    Thus,  — 

My  friend  Jackson  lives  in  San  Francisco. 

Note  3.  — An  intensive  pronoun  (myself,  etc.)  is  not  separated  by  a 
comma  from  the  substantive  which  it  emphasizes. 

Note  4.  —  A  series  of  words  or  phrases  in  apposition  with  a  single  sub- 
stantive is  sometimes  set  off,  as  a  whole,  by  a  comma  and  a  dash. 

8.  To  set  off  a  subordinate  clause,  especially  one  introduced 
by  a  descriptive  relative.     Thus,  — 

I  am  going  to  take  a  last  dinner  with  a  most  agreeable  family,  who  have 
been  my  only  neighbors  ever  since  I  have  lived  at  Weston.  —  Cowper. 

Note.  —No  comma  is  used  before  a  restrictive  relative.    Thus,— 
I  want  to  know  many  things  which  only  you  can  tell  me. 
Perhaps  I  am  the  only  man  in  England  who  can  boast  of  such  good 
fortune. 


PUNCTUATION  463 

9.  To  set  off    a  phrase    containing  a  nominative  absolute. 

Thus,  — 

They  had  some  difficulty  in  passing  the  ferry  at  the  riverside,  the  ferry- 
man being  afraid  of  them.  —  De  Foe. 

10.  To  set  off  however,  nevertheless,  moreover,  etc.,  and  introduc- 
tory phrases  like  in  the  first  place,  on  the  one  hand,  etc. 

11.  To  set  off  a  parenthetical  expression.  For  this  purpose 
commas,  dashes,  or  marks  of  parenthesis  may  be  used. 

When  the  parenthetical  matter  is  brief  or  closely  related  to  the 
rest  of  the  sentence,  it  is  generally  set  off  by  commas.     Thus,  — 

I  exercised  a  piece  of  hypocrisy  for  which,  I  hope,  you  will  hold  me 
excused.  —  Thackeray. 

When  it  is  longer  and  more  independent, it  is  generally  marked 
off  by  dashes,  or  enclosed  in  marks  of  parenthesis.  The  latter 
are  less  frequently  used  at  present  than  formerly. 

The  connection  of  the  mail  with  the  state  and  the  executive  govern- 
ment—a connection  obvious,  but  yet  not  strictly  defined  — gave  to  the 
whole  mail  establishment  an  official  grandeur.  —  De  Quincey. 

Note.  — Brackets  are  used  to  indicate  insertions  that  are  not  part  of 
the  text. 

Ill 

The  clauses  of  a  compound  sentence  may  be  separated  by 
colons,  semicolons,  or  commas. 
1.  The  colon  is  used  — 

a.  To  show  that  the  second  of  two  clauses  repeats  the  sub- 

stance of  the  first  in  another  form,  or  defines  the  first 
as  an  appositive  defines  a  noun.     Thus,  — 

This  was  the  practice  of  the  Grecian  Btage.  But  Terence  made  an  inno- 
vation in  the  Roman :  all  his  plays  have  double  actions.  —  Dryden. 

b.  To  separate  two  groups  of  clauses  one  or  both  of  which 

contain  a  Bemicolon.     Thus, — 

At  that  time,  news  such  as  we  had  heard  might  have  been  long  in  pene- 
trating so  far  into  the  recesses  of  the  mountains;  but  now,  as  you  Know, 
the  approach  is  easy,  and  the  communication,  in  summer  time,  almost 


464  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

hourly:  nor  is  this  strange,  for  travellers  after  pleasure  are  become  not 
less  active,  and  more  numerous,  than  those  who  formerly  left  their  homes 
for  purposes  of  gain.  —  Wordsworth. 

Note.  —  The  colon  is  less  used  now  than  formerly.  The  tendency  is  to 
use  a  semicolon  or  to  begin  a  new  sentence. 

2.  The  semicolon  is  used  when  the  clauses  are  of  the  same  gen- 
eral nature  and  contribute  to  the  same  general  effect,  especially 
if  one  or  more  of  them  contain  commas.     Thus,  — 

The  sky  was  cloudless ;  the  sun  shone  out  bright  and  warm ;  the  songs 
of  birds,  and  hum  of  myriads  of  summer  insects  filled  the  air ;  and  the 
cottage  garden,  crowded  with  every  rich  and  beautiful  tint,  sparkled  in  the 
heavy  dew  like  beds  of  glittering  jewels.  —  Dickens. 

3.  The  comma  may  be  used  when  the  clauses  are  short  and 
simple  (see  p.  461). 

Note.  —  The  choice  between  colon,  semicolon,  and  comma  is  determined 
in  many  cases  by  the  writer's  feeling  of  the  closer  or  the  looser  connection 
of  the  ideas  expressed  by  the  several  clauses,  and  is  to  some  extent  a 
matter  of  taste. 


IV 

1.  In  a  complex  sentence  the  dependent  clause  is  generally 
separated  from  the  main  clause  by  a  comma.  But  when  the 
dependent  clause  is  short  and  the  connection  close,  the  comma 
may  be  omitted. 

Note.  —  A  restrictive  relative  clause  is  not  preceded  by  a  comma  (see 
p.  462). 

2.  The  clauses  of  a  series,  when  in  the  same  dependent  con- 
struction, are  often  separated  by  semicolons  to  give  more  emphasis 
to  each.     Thus,  — 

[Mrs.  Battle]  was  none  of  your  lukewarm  gamesters,  your  half-and- 
half  players,  who  have  no  objection  to  take  a  hand  if  you  want  one  to 
make  up  a  rubber ;  who  affirm  that  they  have  no  pleasure  in  winning ;  that 
they  like  to  win  one  game  and  lose  another ;  that  they  can  while  away  an 
hour  very  agreeably  at  a  card-table,  but  are  indifferent  whether  they  play 
or  no ;  and  will  desire  an  adversary,  who  has  slipped  a  wrong  card,  to  take 
it  up  and  play  another.  —  Lamb. 


PUNCTUATION  465 

V 

1.  A  direct  quotation  is  enclosed  in  quotation  marks. 

Note.  —  If  the  quotation  stands  by  itself  and  is  printed  in  different 
type,  the  marks  may  be  omitted. 

2.  A  quotation  within  a  quotation  is  usually  enclosed  in  single 
quotation  marks. 

3.  In  a  quotation  consisting  of  several  paragraphs,  quotation 
marks  are  put  at  the  beginning  of  each  paragraph  and  at  the  end 
of  the  last. 

Note.  —  For  the  punctuation  before  a  quotation,  see  p.  461. 

4.  When  a  book,  poem,  or  the  like,  is  referred  to,  the  title  may 
be  enclosed  in  quotation  marks  or  italicized. 


VI 

1.  Sudden  changes  in  thought  and  feeling  or  breaks  iu  speech 
are  indicated  by  dashes.     Thus,  — 

Eb !  —  what—  why —  upon  my  life,  and  so  it  is  —  Charley,  my  boy,  so 
it 's  you,  is  it  ?  —  Lever. 

2.  Parenthetical  expressions  may  be  set  off  by  dashes  (see 
p.  4G3). 

3.  A  colon,  or  colon  and  dash,  may  precede  an  enumeration,  a 
direct  quotation,  or  a  statement  formally  introduced,  —  especially 
with  as  follows,  namely,  and  the  like.     Thus,  — 

There  are  eight  parts  of  speech :  —  nouns,  pronouns,  adjectives,  verbs, 
adverbs,  prepositions,  conjunctions,  and  interjections. 

4.  The  dash  is  sometimes  used  to  strengthen  a  comma  (as  in 
the  last  paragraph  but  one). 

Note.  —  For  the  dash  in  the  salutation  of  a  letter,  see  p.  403. 


466  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

VII 

1.  The  apostrophe  is  used  — 

a.  To  mark  the  omission  of  a  letter  or  letters  in  contractions. 

b.  As  a  sign  of  the  genitive  or  possessive. 

c.  To  indicate  the  plural  of  letters,  signs,  etc. 

2.  The  hyphen  is  used  — 

a.  When  the  parts  of  a  word  are  separated  in  writing. 

b.  Between  the  parts  of  some  compound  words.     (See  the 

Dictionary  in  each  case.) 

BUSINESS   FORMS 

Brief  papers  of  a  business  character,  like  bills,  notes,  receipts, 
and  checks,  are  drawn  up  in  accordance  with  certain  well- 
established  forms. 

For  these  forms  the  pupil  may  properly  consult  his  arithmetic 
or  his  copy-book. 

For  convenience,  however,  specimens  of  such  papers  are  given 
below. 

[Time  Note] 
$375.25.  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  April  2,  1901. 

Six  months  after  date,  I  promise  to  pay  Benjamin  Parker 
three  hundred  seventy-five  and  Jfo  dollars,  with  interest  at  5%. 
Value  received.  Robert  Overton. 

[Demand  Note] 
$375.25.  Philadelphia,  Pa.,  April  17,  1901. 

On  demand,  I  promise  to  pay  Benjamin  Parker  three  hundred 
seventy-five  and  T255o  dollars,  with  interest  at  5%.     Value  received. 

Robert  Overton. 


BUSINESS  FORMS  467 

These  are  promissory  notes.  They  are  payable  to  Benjamin  Parker 
alone  unless  they  bear  his  signature  on  the  back  (endorsement).  In  either 
note  the  name  of  Benjamin  Parker  might  be  followed  by  the  words  or 
bearer,  in  which  case  the  note  would  be  payable  to  any  one  having  lawful 
possession  of  it.  Or  the  name  might  be  followed  by  the  words  or  order, 
when  the  note  would  become  payable  to  the  bearer  if  endorsed  by  Benjamin 
Parker. 

[Bank  Draft] 

$600.25.  New  York,  N.Y.,  August  12,  1900. 

Pay  to  the  order  of  James  Drew  six  hundred  and  j2^  dollars, 
value  received,  and  charge  to  account  of 

Shoe  &  Leather  National  Bank,  Smith    Leland  &  Co. 

Boston,  Mass. 

[Bank  Check] 
#310.50.  Boston,  Mass.,  March  27,  1901. 

Third  National  Bank,  Boston,  Mass. 

Pay  to  the  order  of  John  Hill  three  hundred  ten  and  ^ 
dollars-  John  Endekbv. 

[Receipt  on  account] 
|520.  Chicago,  III.,  Dec.  22,  1900. 

Received  of  James  L.  Williams  five  hundred  twenty  dollars  on 
accouut-  George  M.  Lyman. 

[Receipt  in  full] 
$325.  San  Francisco,  Cal.,  July,  1901. 

Received  of  John  Cotton  three  hundred  twenty-five  dollars  in 
full  of  all  demands  to  date.  Gerald  Norton. 


468 


COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


Mr.  Alfred  Lee, 


[Bills] 
Boston,  Mass.,  March  12,  1901. 

Bought  of  Henderson  &  Lewis. 


40  tons  Coal 
20  cords  Wood 


@$4.75 
@    3.25 


[90 
65 


00 
00 


$255 


00 


Mr.  Henry  Fitzgerald, 


New  York,  Jan.   1,  1901. 


To  James  Brown,  Dr. 


1900 

Nov. 

3 

To  10  lbs.  Coffee 

@  35  c. 

83 

50 

22 

"    11  lbs.  Lard 

@     9  c. 

99 

Dec. 

5 

"    25  lbs.  Sugar 

©    5c. 

1 

25 

12 

«   2  lbs.  Tea 

@  65  c. 

1 

30 

$7 

04 

Jan.  12,  1901. 


Received  Payment, 

James  Brown. 


When  a  bill  is  paid,  it  is  receipted  by  writing  at  the  bottom  the  date  of 
payment  and  the  words  Received  Payment,  followed  by  the  name  of  the 
person  or  firm  rendering  the  account.  If  a  clerk  has  authority  to  sign  his 
employer's  name,  he  signs  his  own  name  (preceded  by  the  word  by  or  per) 
under  that  of  his  employer. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY 


There  are  conflicting  theories  of  English  prosody,  and  no  satisfactory 
system  of  indicating  our  verse-structure  has  yet  heen  devised.  The  fact 
is  that  the  movements  of  English  metre  are  too  varied  and  too  delicate  to 
be  represented  -without  a  very  complicated  set  of  symbols.  Pauses  and 
quantity  undoubtedly  play  their  part  in  English  versification ;  but  it  is 
almost  impossible  to  reduce  these  elements  to  a  system.  In  this  brief 
sketch  of  prosody  the  simplest  method  of  indicating  verse-structure  is 
followed.  Pauses  (except  the  caesura)  are  not  considered,  and  quantity  is 
also  ignored.  The  scansion  adopted  is  only  a  rough-and-ready  indication 
of  the  general  movement  of  the  verse.  It  is,  however,  sufficient  for  the 
purposes  of  an  elementary  classification.  The  teacher  will  of  course  con- 
sult such  -works  as  Schipper's  "  Handbuch  der  Englischen  Mctrik,"  Guest  "s 
"History  of  English  Rhythms,"  Mayor's  "English  Metre,"  and  Lanier's 
"English  Verse,"  and  he  will  find  Gummere's  "Handbook  of  Poetics"  of 
great  practical  value.  He  must  be  prepared,  however,  to  discover  that 
doctors  disagree,  for  the  whole  subject  is  far  from  settled,  even  in  the 
minds  of  the  "  best  authorities." 

Prosody  treats  of  the  structure  and  movement  of  verse. 


METRE 

Poetry,  as  distinguished  from  prose,  has  metre. 

In  other  words,  the  syllahles  are  arranged  in  little  groups  of 
similar  length  and  structure,  called  feet;  and  a  certain  number 
of  feet  make  a  line,  or  verse. 

The  number  of  feet  in  a  verse  differs  in  different  kinds  of 
poetry;  but  the  variations  are  governed  by  the  laws  of  prosody. 

Often,  also,  the  lines  or  verses  are  grouped  into  larger  units, 
also  in  accordance  with  regular  laws  of  measure.  Such  units  are 
couplets  and  stanzas  (see  pp.  470,  17!)). 


470  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Poetry,  therefore,  has  a  regularly  measured  movement,  whereas 
prose  is  free  to  move  as  the  purpose  of  the  writer  or  speaker  may 
suggest. 

The  word  metre  is  derived  from  the  Greek  metrdn,  "  measure," 
through  the  Latin  (metrum)  and  the  French  (metre). 

The  separation  of  a  verse  into  its  metrical  parts,  or  feet,  is 
called  scansion.     The  corresponding  verb  is  to  scan. 

The  scansion  of  a  verse  is  only  a  rough  method  of  indicating  its  metrical 
structure.  It  results  in  a  kind  of  singsong  which  often  misrepresents  the 
actual  effect  of  the  verse  in  expressive  reading. 


KINDS   OF   FEET 

English  metre  depends  in  the  main  upon  rhythm,  —  that  is, 
upon  a  regular  arrangement  of  accented  and  unaccented  syllables. 

The  unit  of  metrical  structure  is  the  foot. 

There  are  several  kinds  of  metrical  feet.  The  most  important 
are  the  trochee  (/-  x),1  the  iambus  or  iamb  (x  /),  the  dactyl  (/  x  x), 
the  anapaest  (x  x  /),  and  the  spondee  (V  /). 

The  trochee  consists  of  an  accented  followed  by  an  unaccented 
syllable  (/  x). 

/  X     I       /       X  I    /       X     I      /    X  ,, 

Tall  and  stately  in  the  valley.  — Longfellow,  "Hiawatha. 

,     xl    /    x!/xl     /     x   1/     x   1/    ."l,/,    ^1   /  / 
Ah,  distinctly  I  remember,  it  was  in  the  bleak  December. 

Poe,  "  The  Raven." 

The  iambus  is  the  opposite  of  the  trochee.  It  consists  of  an 
unaccented  followed  by  an  accented  syllable  (x  /). 

x       /lx       /I  x       /  I x      / 1 x     / 
I  blame  you  not  for  praising  Caesar  so. 

Shakspere,  "Julius  Caesar,"  Act  ni,  Scene  1. 

i  The  symbol  /  denotes  an  accented  syllable ;  the  symbol  x  denotes  an 
unaccented  syllable. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  471 

The  dactyl  consists  of  an  accented  syllable  followed  by  two 
unaccented  syllables  (/  x  x). 

/      X  x     |  •  x    x    |      /        x      x|    •     x      x    I     /       xx|/x 

Entered  with  serious  mien  and  ascended  the  steps  of  the  altar. 

Longfellow,  "  Evangeline,"  iv. 

The  anapgest  is  the  opposite  of  the  dactyl.     It  consists  of  two 
unaccented  syllables  followed  by  an  accented  syllable  (x  x  /). 

xx        •     |    x     x      /    |    x     x       / 
Never  sick,  never  old,  never  dead. 

The  spondee  consists  of  two  syllables,  both  stressed  (•  •). 

•        /  I  x  •       |x      /   I  x        • 

Draws  different  threads,  and  late  and  soon 

/  /  I  x       /  I   x       /    \  y.     / 

Spins,  toiling  out  his  own  cocoon. 

Tennyson,  "  The  Two  Voices." 

In  many  cases  one  may  he  in  doubt  between  a  trochee  and  a  spondee.  A 
spondee  is  never  absolutely  required  by  the  rules  of  English  verse.  Hence 
a  trochee  may  always  be  substituted.  Even  in  hexameter,  where  trochees 
are  inadmissible  in  Latin  or  Greek,  English  uses  them  freely  (see  p.  475). 
This  is  one  of  the  reasons  why  it  is  hard  to  write  an  English  hexameter 
that  satisfies  a  classical  scholar.  With  beginners,  the  distinction  between 
trochees  and  spondees  should  not  be  much  insisted  on. 

A  verse  that  ends  with  an  incomplete  foot  is  said  to  be  cata- 
lectic.     Thus,  — 

/  x|/  X  /      xl    /      A 

When  shall  we  three  meet  again? 

Shakspere,  "Macbeth,"  Act  i,  Scene  1. 

The  absence  of  the  last  part  of  the  foot  may  be  indicated  by  a  caret 
(  a  ),  as  in  the  example.  The  omission  of  a  syllable  is  somel  inns  regarded 
as  analogous  to  a  rest  in  music. 

An  unaccented  syllable  after  the  last  iambus  does  not  affect 
the  general  structure  or  tin',  classification  of  the  line.  This  syl- 
lable is  often  called  an  extra  syllable,  and  the  verse  is  often  said 
to  be  hypermetrical  ("over  the  measure  "). 


472  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

Thus  the  first  of  the  Wo  following  verses  is  classed  as  a  deca- 
syllabic verse,  though  it  actually  has  eleven  syllables  by  reason  of 
the  "  extra  syllable." 

x       •   I  x      /  I  x       /  |x    /    I  x       •  !  x 
Do  faithful  homage  and  receive  free  honors. 

Shakspere,  "  Macheth,"  Act  in,  Scene  G. 

Such  extra  syllables  are  always  found  in  iambic  verse  which  has 
feminine  rhyme  (p.  473). 

Substitutions  of  one  foot  for  another  are  extremely  common  in 
English  verse. 

The  various  feet  will  be  abundantly  illustrated  in  the  examples  of 
couplets  and  of  stanzaic  structure  which  follow  (pp.  476-85).  Observe  the 
numerous  substitutions. 

A  verse  is  named  from  its  prevailing  foot,  —  trochaic,  iambic, 
dactylic,  anapsestic. 

A  verse  of  one  foot  is  called  a  mono  meter ;  one  of  two  feet, 
a  dimeter ;  of  three,  a  trimeter ;  of  f  our,  a  tetrameter ;  of  five,  a 
pentameter ;  of  six,  an  hexameter. 

The  name  hexameter  is  usually  restricted  to  the  dactylic  hexameter 
(see  p.  475). 

Examples  of  dimeters,  etc.,  will  be  found  in  the  stanzas  quoted 
below  (pp.  479-S5).  The  seventh  verse  in  the  following  passage 
is  an  iambic  monometer  (x  /)  : 

When  icicles  hang  by  the  wall, 
And  Dick  the  shepherd  blows  his  nail, 

And  Tom  bears  logs  into  the  hall, 
And  milk  comes  frozen  home  in  pail ; 

When  blood  is  nipped,  and  ways  be  foul, 

Then  nightly  sings  the  staring  owl 
"  Tuwhoo! 

"Tuwhit!    tuwhoo!"     A  merry  note! 

While  greasy  Joan  doth  keel  the  pot. 

Shakspere,  "  Love's  Labor's  Lost,"  Act  v,  Scene  2. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  473 

C^SURA 

Most  verses  are  divided  into  two  parts  by  a  metrical  pause, 
called  the  caesura,  which  may  or  may  not  coincide  with  a  pause 
in  the  sense  or  with  the  end  of  a  foot. 

The  caesura  is  indicated  by  the  symbol  ||. 

The  place  of  the  caesura  varies  in  different  kinds  of  verse  and 
often  in  different  verses  of  the  same  general  structure.  In  many 
cases  there  maybe  a  difference  of  opinion  as  to  where  it  falls. 

Some  verses  have  two  caesuras. 

For  examples  of  the  caesura,  see  pp.  474-85. 

RHYME 

English  versification  makes  frequent  use  of  a  peculiar  cor- 
respondence between  the  sounds  of  different  words.  This  is 
known  as  rhyme.1 

The  usage  of  modern  English  poetry  requires,  for  a  perfect 
rhyme,  that  the  words  shall  agree  in  their  vowel  sound  and  in 
any  consonant  sound  that  follows  the  vowel,  but  that  they  shall 
not  agree  in  the  consonant  sound  that  precedes  the  vowel.  The 
rhyming  syllables  must  also  have  the  same  accent. 

Thus,  —  three,  tree;  six,  sticks;  old,  hold;  remain,  constrain;  nation, 
reputation;  hough,  now;  heau,  show. 

When  the  rhyming  syllables  are  complete  words  (monosyllables) 
or  final  accented  syllables,  the  rhyme  is  called  single,  or  masculine. 

Thus,  —  well,  fell;  hrand,  hanned  ;  say,  ohey  ;  ill,  fulfil ;  inspire,  choir ; 
sure,  secure;  deceive,  believe;  change,  derange;  before,  adore;  wood, 
understood;  indeed,  proceed;  cavalier,  hear. 

When  the  rhyme  includes  both  an  accented  and  a  following 
(unaccented)  syllable,  it  is  called  a  double  or  feminine  rhyme. 

1  The  word  is  here  restricted  to  end-rhyme,  in  accordance  with  ordinary 
usage.    For  alliteration,  see  p.  4H0. 


474  COMPOSITION"  AND  RHETORIC 

Thus,  —  swinging,  ringing ;  decided,  guided ;  steady,  ready ;  def e'nces, 
senses ;  faster,  alabaster ;  contradiction,  conviction ;  exactly,  compactly. 

Note.  —  The  unaccented  syllable  may  be  an  independent  monosyllabic 
word.  Thus,  —  se'nd  it,  mend  it;  charm  him,  harm  him;  said  it,  cre'dit; 
certain,  de'sert  in,  alert  in  (Byron);  o'erthrdwn  be,  Macdne  (Byron). 

A  wight  he  was  whose  very  sight  would 

Entitle  him  "  Mirror  of  Knighthood."  —  Butler,  "  Hudibras,"  1, 1. 

In  a  triple  rhyme  the  accented  syllable  is  followed  by  two 
unaccented  syllables. 

Thus,  — furious,  injurious;  ravelling,  travelling;  geography,  topogra- 
phy; particle,  article. 

Triple  rhymes  are  rare  in  serious  poetry.  In  humorous  verse 
they  are  often  whimsically  used  for  comic  effect. 

I  have  seen  Napoleon,  who  seemed  quite  a  Jupiter, 
Shrink  to  a  Saturn.     I  have  seen  a  duke 

(No  matter  which)  turn  politician  stupider, 
If  that  can  well  be,  than  his  wooden  look. 

But  it  is  time  that  I  should  hoist  my  "  blue  Peter" 
And  sail  for  a  new  theme.  —  Byron. 

Blank  verse  is  verse  without  rhyme.  The  term  is  specially 
applied  to  unrhymed  iambic  verse  of  ten  syllables,  like  that  of 
Shakspere  and  Milton. 

x         /   I     x         •    I  x  II   /  I  x  /l   x         /, 
Thus  they  their  doubtful  consultations  dark 

Ended,  rejoicing  in  their  matchless  chief: 

As,  when  from  mountain  tops  the  dusky  clouds 

Ascending,  while  the  north  wind  sleeps,  o'erspread 

Heav'n's  cheerful  face,  the  low'ring  element 

Scowls  o'er  the  darkened  landskip  snow  or  shower, 

If  chance  the  radiant  sun,  with  farewell  sweet, 

Extend  his  ev'ning  beam,  the  fields  revive, 

The  birds  their  notes  renew,  and  bleating  herds 

Attest  their  joy,  that  hill  and  valley  rings. 

Milton,  "  Paradise  Lost,"  Book  n,  verses  486-95. 

In  the  example  observe  the  substitution  of  a  trochee  (/ x)  for  an 
iambus  (x  /)  in  verses  2  (e"nded)  and  G  (scdwls  o'er). 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  475 

Blank  verse  is  very  monotonous  if  there  is  a  pause  at  the  end 
of  nearly  every  line,  —  that  is,  if  all  or  most  of  the  verses  are 
"  end-stopped."     Thus,  — 

There  resteth  all.    But  if  they  fail  thereof, 
And  if  the  end  hring  forth  an  ill  success, 
On  them  and  theirs  the  mischief  shall  befall, — 
And  so  I  pray  the  gods  requite  it  them, 
And  so  they  will,  for  so  is  wont  to  be. 

Sackville,  "  Gorboduc,"  Act  i,  Scene  1. 

An  intermixture  of  "  run-on  lines "  (that  is,  of  lines  which 
have  no  pause  at  the  end)  is  necessary  to  give  blank  verse  an 
agreeable  variety.     Thus,  — 

If  it  were  done  when  'tis  done,  then  'twere  well 
It  were  done  quickly.     If  th'  assassination 
Could  trammel  up  the  consequence,  and  catch 
With  his  surcease,  success,  that  but  this  blow 
Might  be  the  be-all  and  the  end-all  here,  — 
But  here,  upon  this  bank  and  shoal  of  time,  — 
We  'd  jump  the  life  to  come. 

Shakspere,  "  Macbeth,"  Act  i,  Scene  7. 

The  extra  syllable  (p.  471)  is  also  used  to  vary  the  structure 
of  blank  verse  (as  in  the  second  line  of  the  preceding  example). 

Blank  verse  is  one  of  the  commonest  of  English  metres,  espe- 
cially in  the  drama  (as  in  Shakspere)  and  in  narrative  poems 
(as  "Paradise  Lost").  The  following  •well-known  works  are  in 
blank  verse  :  —  Young's  "Night  Thoughts";  Cowjmt's  "Task"; 
Thomson's  "Seasons";  Byron's  "Manfred";  Keats's  "Hype- 
rion"; Wordsworth's  "  Excursion  "  ;  Tennyson's  "Princess," 
"  Idylls  of  the  King,"  and  "  Enoch  Arden." 

Unrhymed  dactylic  hexameters  are  sometimes  used  in  narrative 
poetry,  as  in  Longfellow's  "  Evangeline."     Thus, — 

/     x    x  I    /    x  I    /    II    x         x|/xi(|/xx|/       x 
Oft  on  autumnal  eves  when  without  in  the  gathering  darkness 

Bursting  With  li^ht  seemed  the  smithy,  through  every  cranny  and  crevice, 

Warm  by  the  forge  within  they  watched  the  laboring  bellows. 


476  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

The  Greek  and  Latin  hexameter  consists  of  dactyls  and  spon- 
dees; in  English,  however,  the  so-called  spondees  in  hexameter 
are  usually  trochees  (see  p.  471). 


COUPLETS 

A  group  of  two  rhymed  lines  of  like  metrical  structure  is  called 
a  couplet. 

The  commonest  couplets  are  the  heroic  or  ten-syllable  (deca- 
syllabic) couplet,  and  the  short  or  eight-syllable  (octosyllabic) 
couplet;    but  there  are  many  other  varieties. 

1.  The  ten-syllable  (decasyllabic)  or  heroic  couplet ;  two  iambic 
pentameters. 

X  /        I    x        •  |x  II        /     I  X         /     I   x       /■ 

'Tis  strange  the  miser  should  his  cares  employ1 

To  gain  those  riches  he  can  ne'er  enjoy: 

Is  it  less  strange  the  prodigal  should  waste 

His  wealth,  to  purchase  what  he  ne'er  can  taste? 

Pope,  "  Moral  Essays,"  Epistle  iv,  verses  1-4. 

Now  while  the  silent  workings  of  the  dawn 

Were  busiest,  into  that  selfsame  lawn, 

All  suddenly,  with  joyful  cries  there  sped 

A  troop  of  little  children  garlanded; 

Who,  gathering  round  the  altar,  seemed  to  pry 

Earnestly  round,  as  wishing  to  espy 

Some  folk  of  holiday;  nor  had  they  waited 

For  many  moments,  ere  their  ears  were  sated 

With  a  faint  break  of  music,  which  ev'n  then 

Filled  out  its  voice,  and  died  away  again. 

Keats,  "  Endymion,"  Book  i,  verses  107-16. 

The  heroic  couplet  is  susceptible  of  great  variety  and  also  of 
deadening  monotony.  It  is  one  of  the  commonest  of  English 
rhythms.  See,  for  example,  many  of  Chaucer's  "Canterbury 
Tales";  many  passages  in  Shakspere ;  most  of  the  poems  of 
Dryden,  Pope,  and  their  school;    Goldsmith's  "Traveller"  and 

1  The  place  of  the  caesura  often  varies  in  different  verses  of  the  same 
extract.    The  scheme  applies  to  the  first  verse  in  each  case. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  477 

"Deserted    Village";    Cowper's    "Table    Talk,"    etc.;    Byron's 
«  English  Bards  and  Scotch  Reviewers  "  ;  Keats's  »  Endymion  "  and 
»  Lamia  " ;  Shelley's  «  Epipsychidion,"  «  Letter  to  Maria  Gisborne," 
and  >'Julian  and  Maddalo"  ;  Campbell's  "Pleasures  of  Hope." 
2.  The  eight-syllable  (octosyllabic)  couplet ;  two  iambic  tetram- 

eters-  /      x  I  x      ,  I    x    II    ,  I  x       • 

X  /I     K  /  X       II       •    I     X  .  ' 

Soon  as  the  midnight  bell  did  ring, 
Alone,  and  armed,  forth  rode  the  king 
To  that  old  camp's  deserted  round. 
Sir  knight,  you  well  might  mark  the  mound, 
Left  hand  the  town,  — the  Pictish  race 
The  trench,  long  since,  in  blood  did  trace; 
The  moor  around  is  brown  and  bare, 
The  space  within  is  green  and  fair. 
The  spot  our  village  children  know, 
For  there  the  earliest  wild  flowers  grow; 
But  woe  betide  the  wandering  wight 
That  treads  its  circle  in  the  night! 

Scott,  "Marmion,"  Canto  in,  23. 

In  the  first  line  note  the  substitution  of  a  trochee  for  an  iambus  in 
the  first  foot. 

This  couplet  has  been  much  used  in  narrative  poetry,  as  in 
Chaucer's  "House  of  Fame";  Gower's  "  Confessio  Amantis"; 
Burns's  "Twa  Dogs"  and  "  Tam  O'Shanter  "  ;  Scott's  "Lay  of  the 
Last  Minstrel,"  "  Marmion,"  and  "  Lady  of  the  Lake  "  ;  Byron's 
"  Giaour  "  and  "  Bride  of  Abydos  "  ;  Wordsworth's  "  White  Doe 

of  Rylstone." 

The  eight-syllable  verse  is  often  called  Hudibrastic,  from  its  use 
in  Samuel  Butler's  satirical  poem  "  Iludibras." 

For  rhetoric,  ho  could  not  ope 
His  mouth  but  out  there  flew  a  trope; 
And  when  lie  happen'd  to  break  off 
I*  th'  middle  of  his  speech,  or  cough, 
H'  had  hard  words  ready,  to  show  why 
And  tell  what  rules  he  did  it  by; 
Else,  when  with  greatest  art   lie  spoke, 
You'd  think  be  talk'd  like  other  folk. 

BUTLER,  "  Iludibras,"  Part  i,  Canto  L 


478  COMPOSITION   AND   RHETORIC 

3.  The  seven-syllable  trochaic  couplet ;  two  trochaic  tetram- 
eters catalectic. 

/         X      I     /         X       II  /    X    I       /        A 

Blessings  on  thee,  little  man, 
Barefoot  boy,  with  cheek  of  tan! 
With  thy  turned  up  pantaloons, 
And  thy  merry  whistled  tunes. 

Whittiek,  "  The  Barefoot  Boy." 

Once  again  my  call  obey! 
Prophetess,  arise,  and  say 
What  dangers  Odin's  child  await, 
Who  the  author  of  his  fate. 

Gray,  "  The  Descent  of  Odin." 

Four  iambic  feet  may  be  substituted,  as  in  the  third  verse  of  the 
extract  from  Gray  (x  /  I  x  / 1  x  /  I  x  /). 

4.  The  fourteen-syllable  iambic  couplet. 

X  /I    X  /       I    X         •  I   X      •    II  X  /  I    X  /|    X  • 

'Twas  in  the  wilds  of  Lebanon,  amongst  its  barren  hills, — 
To  think  upon  it,  even  now,  my  very  blood  it  chills!  — 
My  sketch-book  spread  before  me,  and  my  pencil  in  my  hand, 
I  gazed  upon  the  mountain  range,  the  red  tumultuous  sand, 
The  plumy  palms,  the  sombre  firs,  the  cedars  tall  and  proud, — 
When  lo!  a  shadow  passed  across  the  paper  like  a  cloud, 
And  looking  up  I  saw  a  form,  apt  figure  for  the  scene, 
Methought  I  stood  in  presence  of  an  oriental  queen. 

Hood,  "  The  Desert-Born." 

Such  verses  are  usually  divided  by  the  caesura  into  two  parts  of 
eight  and  six  syllables  respectively. 

5.  Fifteen-syllable  trochaic  couplets ;  eight  trochees,  the  last 
catalectic. 

/     x|         /  X    I  /  x|/xll/xl/x|/x|/A 

Yet  I  doubt  not  through  the  ages  one  increasing  purpose  runs, 
And  the  thoughts  of  men  are  widened  with  the  process  of  the  suns. 

Tennyson,  "Locksley  Hall." 

Such  verses  are  usually  divided  by  the  caesura  into  two  parts 
of  eight  and  seven  syllables  respectively. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  479 

6.  The  sixteen-syllable  trochaic  couplet. 

/      x|   /    xi/  xl    /     x    11/    x    |  /     x  |      /       x\    /■    X 
Ah,  distinctly  I  remember,  it  was  iu  the  bleak  December. 

Poe,  "Tbe  Raven." 

Such  verses  are  usually  divided  into  halves  by  the  caesura.  In 
"  The  Raven  "  the  two  halves  rhyme. 

7.  The   eleven-syllable  anapaestic  couplet ;    one    iambus   and 

three  anapaests. 

x        /  I  x       x        /  I     x      II     x         ^|xx         / 
Here  lies  our  good  Edmund,  whose  genius  was  such, 

We  scarcely  can  praise  it  or  blame  it  too  much; 

Who,  born  for  the  universe,  narrowed  his  mind, 

And  to  party  gave  up  what  was  meant  for  mankind ; 

Though  fraught  with  all  learning,  yet  straining  his  throat 

To  persuade  Tommy  Townshend  to  lend  him  a  vote. 

Goldsmith,  "Retaliation,"  verses  29-34. 

The  first  foot  may  be  either  an  iambus  (as  in  the  first  three  lines  and 
the  fifth)  or  an  anapaest  (as  in  the  fourth  and  sixth  lines).  The  caesura  is 
usually  in  the  third  foot,  sometimes  after  the  second  (as  in  the  fourth  line). 

STANZAS 

A  regular  group  of  more  than  two  verses  is  called  a  stanza. 

A  stanza  is  often  less  properly  called  a  verse. 

The  number  of  possible  varieties  of  stanza  is  unlimited.1  Some 
of  the  most  important  kinds  will  now  be  mentioned. 

1.  Three-line  stanza  with  a  single  rhyme  ;  three  iambic  pentam- 

eters-  /        /     |x      /     llx     /|x      /|  x      , 

x  /     I   x       /     k      /  I  x      /|    x       / 

x  /     \    /       /      II  x      /   I  x      /i    x       / 

Rain,  rain,  and  sun!    a  rainbow  in  the  skyl 

A  young  man  will  be  wiser  by  and  by; 
An  old  man's  wit  may  wander  ere  he  die. 

Tknnyson,  "  The  Coming  of  Arthur." 

In  the  first  verse  the  first  foot  is  distinctly  spondaic  (rain  rain).  No 
one  would  think  of  reading  it  as  an  iambus  (rain  rain). 

l  This  variety  is  particularly  exemplified  in  songs  and  other  lyrical 
poems.  See,  for  instance,  Schelling's  "Elizabethan  Lyrics"  and  "Sev- 
enteenth Century  Lyrics  "  and  Palgrave's  "  Golden  Treasury." 


480  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

2.  Four-line  stanza  consisting  of   two  eight-syllable    iambic 

couplets. 

xx         •     |  x  x         /     I  x       /     \x       / 

x         /     I  x         /     I  x       /    \yt      / 

In  the  heart  of  the  Hills  of  Life,  I  know 

Two  springs,  that  with  unbroken  flow 
Forever  pour  their  lucent  streams 
Into  my  soul's  far  Lake  of  Dreams. 

Lanier,  "  My  Springs." 
The  first  two  feet  in  the  first  verse  are  anapaests. 

3.  Four -line  stanza  with  alternate  rhyme  {ah  ab  *).  Each 
verse  consists  of  four  iambs. 

x         /  I  x         /     II  x       /  I X     / 
The  merry  world  did  on  a  day 

With  his  train-bands  and  mates  agree 

To  meet  together  where  I  lay 

And  all  in  spoit  to  jeer  at  me. 

George  Herbert,  "The  Quip." 

4.  The  same  as  No.  3,  but  with  feminine  rhyme  in  the  second 
and  fourth  verses. 

x         /  I  x         /        II     x        /|x  / 

The  peeress  comes.    The  audience  stare, 

And  doff  their  hats  with  due  submission. 

She  curtsies,  as  she  takes  the  chair, 

To  all  the  people  of  condition. 

Gray,  "  A  Long  Story,"  stanza  28. 

5.  Four -line  stanza  rhyming  alternately  (aba  b).     The  first 

and  third  verses  consist  of  four  iambs  ;  the  second  and  fourth 

of  three. 

Around  in  sympathetic  mirth 

Its  tricks  the  kitten  tries; 

The  cricket  chirrups  in  the  hearth; 

The  crackling  fagot  flies. 

Goldsmith,  "  The  Hermit,"  stanza  14. 

1  The  order  of  the  letters  indicates  the  order  of  the  rhymes.  Thus  abab 
indicates  that  there  are  four  verses  in  the  stanzas,  and  two  rhymes,  and 
further  that  the  first  verse  rhymes  with  the  third  and  the  second  with  the 
fourth. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  481 

6.  The  same  as  No.  5,  except  that  the  first  and  third  lines  do 

^       '        The  sun  now  rose  upon  the  right: 
Out  of  the  sea  came  he, 
Still  hid  in  mist,  and  on  the  left 
Went  down  into  the  sea. 

Coleridge,  "  Ancient  Mariner,"  Part  u,  stanza  1. 

The  dogs  did  bark,  the  children  screamed, 

Up  flew  the  windows  all ; 
And  every  soul  cried  out,  "Well  done!" 

As  loud  as  he  could  bawl.— Cowper,  "John  Gilpin." 

7.  Quatrains:  a  stanza  consisting  of  four  ten-syllahle  iamhic 
lines,  rhyming  alternately  (aba  6). 

Their  cries  soon  waken  all  the  dwellers  near; 

Now  murmuring  noises  rise  in  every  street; 
The  more  remote  run  stumbling  with  their  fear, 

And  in  the  dark  men  jostle  as  they  meet. 

Dryden,  "  Annus  Mirabilis,"  stanza  227. 

Gray's  "  Elegy  "  is  written  in  this  stanza. 

8.  Four -line  anapaestic  stanza;  the  second  and  fourth  verses 
rhyme. 

J  X  X  /       It  X     X  /    I     X  / 

Know  that   Love  is  a  careless  child, 

And  forgets  promise  past; 
He  is  blind,  he  is  deaf  when  he  list, 

And  in  faith  never  fast. 

His  desire  is  a  dureless  content, 

And  a  trustless  joy; 
He  is  won  with  a  world  of  despair, 

And  is  lost  with  a  toy.  Raleigh  (?). 

In  the  example  the  last  foot  in  the  first  verse  and  in  the  sixth  is  an 
iambus;  all  the  other  teet  in  the  two  stanzas  are  anapaests. 

9.  Four -line  stanza  ;  two  anapaestic  couplets. 

x  x  A  x       x  /  I  x    x  /|x  x       • 

Macedonia  sends  forth  her  invincible  race; 

For  a  time  they  abandon  the  rave  and  the  chase: 

But  those  scarfs  of  blood-red  shall  be  redder,  before 

The  sabre  is  Bheathed  and  the  battle  is  o'er. 

Byron,  "Childe  Harold's  Pilgrimage,"  Canto  iv,  Son-  after  stanza  72. 


482  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

10.  Four -line  stanza,  rhyming  abba;  iambic ;  the  stanza  of 
Tennyson's  "  In  Menioriam." 

x         /        I  x        /     I     x      /|x         / 
We  paused ;  the  winds  were  in  the  heech ; 

We  heard  them  sweep  the  winter  land; 

And  in  a  circle,  hand  in  hand, 
Sat  silent,  looking  each  at  each.  —  Section  xxx. 

There  twice  a  day  the  Severn  fills: 

The  salt  sea-water  passes  by, 

And  hushes  half  the  babbling  Wye, 
And  makes  a  silence  in  the  hills.  —  Section  xrx. 

To-night  the  winds  begin  to  rise 

And  roar  from  yonder  dropping  day; 
The  last  red  leaf  is  whirl  'd  away, 

The  rooks  are  blown  about  the  skies; 

The  forest  crack'd,  the  waters  curl'd, 

The  cattle  huddled  on  the  lea; 

And,  wildly  dash'd  on  tower  and  tree, 
The  sunbeam  strikes  along  the  world.  —  Section  xv. 

11.  Four -line  stanza,  with  alternate  rhyme  (abab);  iambic; 
verses  1-3  octosyllabic ;  verse  4  of  four  syllables. 

/      X    |     X  /     II        X  /       I    X  / 

x   /|  x  / 
Happy  the  man  whose  wish  and  care 

A  few  paternal  acres  bound, 
Content  to  breathe  his  native  air 

In  his  own  ground.  —  Pope. 

12.  Five-line  stanza ;  verses  1,  3,  and  5  trochaic;  verses  2  and  4 
iambic.  .        .         , 

/x | / x | / x | /  A 
X  /  I  X  /|  X  /|  X  A 
/x|/x|/x|/A 
X  /  I  X  /  I  X  /  I  X  A 
•   X    I    /   X    I    /   X   I    /     A 

Who  is  Silvia?    What  is  she, 
That  all  our  swains  commend  her? 

Holy,  fair,  and  wise  is  she ; 
The  heaven  such  grace  did  lend  her 

That  she  might  admired  be. 

Shakspere,  "  Two  Gentlemen  of  Verona." 


ENGLISH   PROSODY  483 

13.  Six -line  stanza,  consisting  of  four  iambic  eight-syllable 
lines  rhyming  alternately,  followed  by  a  couplet  in  the  same 
metre  (a  b  a  b  c  c). 

x         /\y  /       II  x/lx  / 

There  is  a  change  —  and  1  am  poor; 

Your  love  hath  been,  nor  long  ago, 
A  fountain  at  my  fond  heart's  door, 

Whose  only  business  was  to  now; 
And  flow  it  did,  not  taking  heed 
Of  its  own  bounty  or  my  need. 

Wordsworth,  "  A  Complaint." 

c 

14.  Six-line  stanza  rhyming  a  a  b  c  c  b  ;  iambic  ;  two  octo- 
syllabic couplets ;  a  verse  of  three  iambs  ;  another  couplet ;  a 
verse  of  three  iambs. 

x  /      I  x        •       I  x      /  I  x  / 

X  /        I   X  /         I   X       / 

The  youth  of  green  savannahs  spake, 
And  many  an  endless,  eudless  lake 

With  all  its  fairy  crowds 
Of  islands  that  together  lie 
As  quietly  as  spots  of  sky 

Among  the  evening  clouds. 

Wordsworth,  "Ruth,"  stanza  12. 

15.  Six-line  stanza  of  decasyllabic  iambic  verses,  the  first  four 
rhyming  alternately,  the  last  two  forming  a  couplet  (a  b  a  b  c  c). 

X  •  I X     •     II   X       /      I     X         /  I    X  / 

With  sacrifice  before  the  rising  morn 

Vows  have  I  made  by  fruitless  hope  inspired; 

And  from  the  infernal  gods,  'mid  shades  forlorn 
Of  night,  my  slaughtered  lord  have  I  required: 

Celestial  pity  I  again  implore, — 

Restore  him  to  my  sight  —  great  Jove,  restore! 

Wordsworth,  "  Laodamia." 

By  all  means  use  sometimes  to  be  alone. 

Salute  thyself;  see  what  thy  soul  doth  wear. 
Dare  to  look  in  thy  <-ln'.st ,  lor  'tis  thine  own, 

And   tumble  ii]>  and  down   what    thou    lind'st    there. 
Who  cannot  rest  till  he  good  fellows  find, 
He  breaks  up  house,  turns  out   of  doors  his  mind. 

QeOBQE  IIerrert,  "  The  Church  l'orch,"  stanza  25. 


484  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

16.  Rhyme  royal  :  seven-line  stanza  of  decasyllabic  iambic 
verses,  rhyming  a  b  a  b  b  c  c. 

And  though  your  grene  youthe  floure  a,s  yit, 

In  crepeth  age  alwey,  as  stille  as  stoon, 
And  death  manaceth  every  age,  and  srait 

In  ech  estat,  for  ther  escapeth  noon : 

And  al  so  certein  as  we  knowe  echoon 
That  we  shul  deye,  as  uncerteyn  we  alle 
Ben  of  that  day  when  death  shal  on  us  falle. 

Chaucer,  "The  Clerk's  Tale,"  stanza  10. 

17.  Eight  decasyllabic  iambic  verses,  rhyming  abababcc. 

In  the  mid  days  of  autumn,  on  their  eves 
The  hreak  of  winter  comes  from  far  away, 

And  the  sick  west  continually  bereaves 
Of  some  gold  tinge,  and  plays  a  roundelay 

Of  death  among  the  hushes  and  the  leaves, 
To  make  all  hare  before  he  dares  to  stray 

From  his  north  cavern.     So  sweet  Isabel 

By  gradual  decay  from  beauty  fell. 

Keats,  "  Isabella,"  stanza  32. 

18.  Nine-line  stanza  (the  Spenserian  stanza),  rhyming 
ababbcbcc;  iambic ;  all  decasyllabic  except  the  last,  which 
is  an  Alexandrine  (x  /  |  x  /  I  x  /  II  x  /  I  x  /  I  x  •). 

Behold  the  merry  minstrels  of  the  morn, 
The  swarming  songsters  of  the  careless  grove, 

Ten  thousand  throats!  that  from  the  flowering  thorn 
Hymn  their  good  God,  and  carol  sweet  of  love, 
Such  grateful  kindly  raptures  them  emove: 

They  neither  plough  nor  sow;  ne,  fit  for  flail, 
E'er  to  the  barn  the  nodden  sheaves  they  drove; 

Yet  theirs  each  harvest  dancing  in  the  gale, 

"Whatever  crowns  the  hill,  or  smiles  along  the  vale. 

x       /I  x  /        [x  /     II  X  /       |  X    /     I  X  / 

Thomson,  "  Castle  of  Indolence,"  Canto  i,  stanza  10. 

This  stanza  was  first  used  by  Spenser  in  "  The  Faerie  Queene." 
It  is  also  found  in  Byron's  "  Childe  Harold,"  Keats's  "  Eve  of 
St.  Agnes,"  and  many  other  poems. 


ENGLISH  PROSODY  485 

19.  Ten-lino  stanza,  rhyming  a  i  a  b  c  d  e  c  d  e  ;  ail  decasyllabic 
iambic  verses,  except  the  eighth,  which  is  of  six  syllables. 

Thou  wast  not  born  for  death,  immortal  bird! 

No  hungry  generations  tread  thee  down ; 
The  voice  I  hear  this  passing  night  was  heard 

In  ancient  days  by  emperor  and  clown : 
Perhaps  the  selfsame  song  that  found  a  path 
Through  the  sad  heart  of  Ruth,  when,  sick  for  home. 
She  stood  in  tears  among  the  alien  corn ; 
The  same  that  ofttimes  hath 
Charmed  magic  casements,  opening  on  the  foam 
Of  perilous  seas,  in  faery  lands  forlorn. 

Keats,  "  Ode  to  a  Nightingale." 

A  powerful  effect  is  sometimes  produced  by  rhyming  together 
a  considerable  number  of  lines,  as  in  the  following  extraordinary 
passage  from  Hood  :  — 

Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold! 

Bright  and  yellow,  hard  and  cold, 

Molten,  graven,  hammered,  and  rolled; 

Heavy  to  get  and  light  to  hold; 

Hoarded,  bartered,  bought,  and  sold; 

Stolen,  borrowed,  squandered,  doled: 

Spurned  by  the  young,  but  hugged  by  the  old 

To  the  very  verge  of  the  churchyard  mould  — 

Price  of  many  a  crime  untold; 

Gold!  gold!  gold!  gold! 

Good  or  bad  a  thousand-fold! 

Hood,  "  Miss  Kilmansegg." 

THE   SONNET 

The  sonnet  is  not  a  stanza  but  a  complete  poem  of 
fourteen  ten-syllable  iambic   verses. 

In  the  strict  type  of  the  sonnet  (the  so-called  "  Petrar- 
chan type")  the  verses  form  two  groups,  —  the  octave 
(of  eight  verses)  and  the  sestet  (of  six  verses).  The 
octave  has  two  rhymes,  arranged  a  b  b  a,  a  h  h  a.     The 


486  COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 

sestet  has  either  two  or  three  rhymes,  which  are  differ- 
ent from  those  of  the  octave  and  are  arranged  either 
c  d  c  d  c  d  (as  on  page  105)   or  e  d  e  c  d  e. 

Cyriack,  whose  grandsire  on  the  royal  bench 

Of  British  Themis,  with  no  mean  applause, 

Pronounced,  and  in  his  volumes  taught,  our  laws, 

Which  others  at  their  bar  so  often  wrench, 

To-day  deep  thoughts  resolve  with  me  to  drench 

In  mirth  that  after  no  repenting  draws ; 

Let  Euclid  rest,  and  Archimedes  pause, 

And  what  the  Swede  intends,  and  what  the  French. 

To  measure  life  learn  thou  betimes,  and  know 

Toward  solid  good  what  leads  the  nearest  way ; 

For  other  things  mild  Heaven  a  time  ordains, 

And  disapproves  that  care,  though  wise  in  show, 

That  with  superfluous  burden  loads  the  day, 

And,  when  God  sends  a  cheerful  hour,  refrains.  —  Milton- 

Shakspere's  sonnets  are  rhymed  as  follows,  —  ab  ab,cdc  d,  efef,  g g. 

ALLITERATION 

Words  alliterate  when  they  begin  with  the  same  sound  or 
combination  of  sounds  :  as,  —  merry  maiden,  Zovely  Zady,  shiver 
and  shake,  "Pride  and  Prejudice,"  "  Sense  and  (Sensibility." 

Alliteration  according  to  fixed  rules  was  a  characteristic  of  the 
oldest  English  (Anglo-Saxon)  poetry,  which  seldom  had  end- 
rhyme.  Regular  alliteration  without  end-rhyme  is  also  found  in 
many  poems  of  later  date.  Occasional  alliteration  often  occurs 
in  modern  verse  and  is  common  in  prose.     Thus,  — 

When  to  the  sessions  of  sweet  silent  thought 

I  summon  up  remembrance  of  things  past, 

I  sigh  the  lack  of  many  a  thing  I  sought, 

And  with  old  woes  new  wail  my  dear  time's  waste. 

Shakspere,  Sonnet  xxx. 

This  brave  o'erhanging  /irmament,  this  majestical  roof,  /retted  with 
golden/ire,  —  why,  it  appears  no  other  thing  to  me  than  a/oul  and  pesti- 
lent congregation  of  vapors.  —  Shakspere,  "  Hamlet,"  Act  n,  Scene  2. 


INDEX 

[The  references  below  are  to  pages;  f.  signifies  "  and  following  page"; 
ff.  signifies  "  and  following  pages."] 


Abstract  Ideas,  exposition  of, 
184  f . ;  words,  see  Specific.  Exer- 
cises, 205,  209,  310. 

Abstracts,  187  f. 

Accent  in  prosody,  470. 

Accessory  facts,  in  introduction, 
42  ff.,  106,  172,  219. 

Accuracy  in  use  of  words.  See 
Correctness;,  Precision. 

Action  in  stories,  32 ff.;  advanced 
l>y  conversation,  59ff. ;  divided, 
68  ff.;  in  description,  52  11'.,  I00f., 
135;  in  drama,  267 ff.;  words  ex- 
pressing, 33  f.  Exercises,  79  f., 
135,  423  f. 

Adaptation  to  the  reader,  9  f .  See 
Appropriateness. 

Addison,  Joseph,  133,  173,  175,  290, 
302,  377,  3781  Exercises,  421, 
42ii. 

Adjective  |  ill  rases  a  nil  clauses,  451  ff. 

Adjectives,  study  of,  434  ff. ;  errors 
in,  445.    See  Words. 

Adverbial     phrases    and    clauses, 

451  ff. 
Adverbs,  conjunctive,  151. 
^Esop.    See  Fables. 
Agassiz,  Louis,  252. 
Allegory,  74,  316,  378  ff. 
Alliteration,  186. 
Ambiguity,  220,  390  f.,  149  f. 
Analogy.    See  Comparison. 
Anapaesl  and  anapaestic  verse,  472, 

479,  481. 

i8'i 


And,  abuse  of,  320  f. ;    and  which, 
445. 

Antecedent  or  accessory  facts,  in 
introduction,  42  IT.,  106,  172,  219. 

Antecedent  probability,  229  £. 

Anticlimax,  335  f. 

Antithesis,    330  f.,    333.     See    Con- 
trast. 

Antonyms.     See  Synonyms. 

Apostrophe,  iigure  of  speech,  378; 
sign,  466. 

Appropriateness,  354  f.,  3G3ff.    Ex- 
ercises, 454  ff. 

Archaisms,  349  f. 

Argument,  211  ff. ;  relation  to  expo- 
sition, 211  f.,  218  f.;  parts  of, 
212  ff.;  brief  of,  216  ff.,  221  f., 
249  ff.;  introduction,  212,  218  ff . ; 
body,  223,  225  ff. ;  conclusion,  214, 
215,  247;  climax  in,  225;  kinds 
of  argument,  225  ff. ;  argument  of 
fact,  227  ff. ;  of  theory  or  prin- 
ciple, 231  ff. ;  of  policy,  233  ff. ; 
from  antecedent  probability,  2291; 
from  sign,  230;  from  author- 
ity, 257;  evidence  and  testimony, 
228  li.;  refutation,  257  ff.;  per 
suasion,  241  ff.;  debate,  243  ff.; 
specimen  briefs,  216  r.,  l'21  f., 
249  ff.;  subjects,  262  ff.  Exer- 
cises, 260  li..  132. 

Arnold,    .Mai  i  hew,    l<>5  f.,    Ids,   ||5, 
289,  387  f.     Exercise,  124. 

Arnold,  Thomas,  107.   Exercise,  L38. 


4SS 


COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 


Arrangement  of  material,  8  f . ;  in 
stories,  35  f.,  68  ff . ;  in  descrip- 
tions, 106  f.,  124  ff. ;  in  exposition, 
163  ff.;  in  arguments,  212  ff., 
216  ff.    See  Outlines,  Briefs. 

Arrangement  of  the  paragraph, 
283  ff.;  for  proportion,  297  ff. ; 
sequence, 285  ff. ;  clearness, 278 ff., 
283 ff.;  cogency,  284 f.,  295 f.; 
emphasis,  296  f . 

Arrangement  of  words  and  phrases 
in  the  sentence  for  perspicuity, 
390  f . ;  for  unity,  311  ff . ;  for  va- 
riety and  emphasis,  313  ff.,  326  ff. 
See  Antithesis,  Balance,  Climax, 
Parallel,  Periodic. 

Article,  faulty  insertion  or  omission 
of,  443  f.,  450. 

Artistic  criticism,  197,  199. 

Artistic  economy,  67. 

Associations  of  words,  102  ff.,  129, 
368  f. 

Atmosphere  in  narration,  31,  54  f . ; 
in  description,  112  ff.;  in  drama, 
270.    Exercises,  139  f.,  426. 

Audience,  conciliation  or  prepara- 
tion of,  172,  219,  236. 

Austen,  Jane,  66,  76. 

Authority,  argument  from,  2: '.7; 
basis  of,  in  language,  346  ff . 

Background.    See  Setting. 
Bacon,  Francis,  8, 181,  334,  371, 379  f . 
Balanced  sentences,  332  ff. 
Barbarisms,  351  f. 
Barrie,  J.  M.,  63. 
Betham-Ed  wards,  Miss,  301. 
Bible,  33,  105,  141,  334,  364  f.,  435  ; 

stories,  33. 
Biography,  35,  73. 
Bird's-eye  view,  111  f.,  426. 
Black,  William,  96,  106. 
Blackmore,  R.  D.,  88. 
Blank  verse,  474  f. 
Bombast,  380  f . 


Borrow,  George,  53  f .,  133. 

Boswell,  James,  117. 

Boyesen,  H.  H.,  36. 

Brackets,  463. 

Brassey,  Mrs.,  132. 

Brevity.    See  Conciseness. 

Briefs,    216  ff . ;     specimens,    216  f., 

221  ff .,  249  ff .    Exercises,  264  ff. 
Bronte,  Emily,  133. 
Brougham,  Lord,  161,  304. 
Brown,  Dr.  John,  180,  302. 
Browning,  Robert,  36,  37,  47,  104: 

Exercises,  79,  142. 
Bulleu,  F.  T.,  168  1,  175  f. 
Banner,  H.  C,  36. 
Banyan,  John,  379. 
Burke,  Edmund,  168  ff . ,  177  f .,  224  f ., 

234  ff.,  239  f.,  284  f.,  291  ff.,  296, 

300,  305,  337,  339.   Exercise,  309. 
Burney,  Fanny,  66. 
Burns,  Robert,  180,  195,  197. 
Burroughs,  John,  88,  162  f.,  303. 
Business  letters.  See  Letter-writing. 
But,  use  of,  319,  454;  which,  445. 
Butler,  Samuel,  474,  477. 
Byron,  Admiral,  132. 
Byron,    Lord,    132,    299,  335,    378, 

474  f .,  477, 481, 484.    Exercise,  144. 

CiESURA,  473. 

Campbell,  Thomas,  80,  477. 

Capitals,  rules  for,  459;  emphatic 
or  topical,  459. 

Carlyle,  Jane  Welsh,   288,  393  ff. 

Carlyle,  Thomas,  180,  195,  197,  289, 
292  f.    Exercise,  309  f. 

Case,  errors  in,  444  f . 

Catalectic  verse,  471. 

Catastrophe  in  drama,  271  ff. 

Cause  and  effect,  152  (last  para- 
graph), 162,  303,  309,  431  f. 

Central  point  in  a  description,  126  ff . 

Character  in  stories,  56  ff. ;  in  de- 
scription, 141  ff .,  188  ff . ;  in  con- 
versation, 59  f . ;  novels  of,  75  f. ; 


INDEX 


-IX!  i 


exposition  of,  180,  188  ft*. ;  in 
drama,  271  f.  Exercises,  87  f., 
206  f.,  309,421  f.,426. 

Chatham,  Lord,  285. 

Chaucer,  Geoffrey,  50,  132  f.,  477. 
484. 

Chesterfield,  Lord,  280,  304  f. 

Choice  of  material.    See  Selection. 

Choice  of  words,  345  1V.  Exercises, 
434  ff.    See  Words. 

Chorus  in  drama,  267. 

( 'lironological  order.    See  Time. 

Circumstantial  evidence,229ff. ;  238. 

Clauses,  453  ff. :  and  infinitives.  315, 
4.">7  :  substantive,  455  ff. :  adjective 
and  adverbial,  315,  455  ff. :  coordi- 
nate, 319 ff.," 453  f. ;  independent. 
319  ff.,  453  f. ;  subordinate,  321  ff., 
154  ff.    Exercises.  .".'4. 

Clearness,  6ff.,  12,  .".'.hi  f.;  in  para- 
graphs, 278  ff.  See  Ambiguity, 
Precision. 

Climax,  334  ff . ;  in  stories,  37  ff., 
46  ft'.;  in  drama,  272  1.:  in  argu- 
ments, 223;  in  conclusion,  46  f.; 
in  paragraphs,  296  f.,  432. 

Close  of  a  paragraph,  284  f.,  .'517  f. ; 
of  a  clause  or  sentence,  328  f . :  of 
a  letter,  404.    See  Conclusion. 

i  ogency  of  paragraphs,  284  ff. 

Coherence  in  narration,  35,42;  in 
description,  L26  ff. ;  in  exposition, 
160,  179  f. ;  in  paragraphs,  285  ff. ; 
in  sentences,  313. 

Coleridge,  S.  T.,  31,  37,  302f.,  481. 
Exercise,  426. 

Collins,  Wilkie,  51. 

Colloquial  English,  349,  352ff. 

Colon,  463ff. 

<  lolors  in  description  and  in  paint- 
ing, 98. 
Comedy,  272. 
Comma,  461  ff. 

Comparison  in  description,  120 ff.; 
in  exposition,  182 ff.;  in  literary 


criticism,  193.  f.:  in  figures  of 
speech,  372ff.;  in  paragraphs, 
303  ff.  Exercises,  1 12,  207,  310, 
422,432.    See  Synonyms. 

Complex  sentences,  321  ff.,  15  iff. : 
relation  to  thought,  -'121,  456  if.; 
emphasis  in,  329;  chains  of  rela- 
tives. 326.    Exercises,  .141  ff. 

Complication  of  plot,  68  IV.  Exer- 
cises, 87  f . 

Composition,  uses  of,  •">  t. :  subjects 
and  titles,  7  f.,  78  ff.,  134ff., 
200  ff.,  260  ff.,  357  IT.:  forms  and 
types,  1  ff.  See  p.  vii  of  Contents ; 
see  also  Oral. 

Compound  sentences,  154  f.;  neces- 
sity of  unity.  311  ff. ;  use  of.  319, 
454  f. ;  abuse,  320  f.  Exercises, 
::ilff. 

( ionciliation  or  preparation  <>f  audi- 
ence in  introduction,  L72,  219,236. 

Conciseness,  384  ff. 

Conclusion,  in  stories.  46 ff.;  in 
exposition,  174  ff. ;  in  argument, 
212,  214,  217  f.;  in  drama,  271  : 
summary,  1711T.,  211.  217  f.,  221: 
explanatory,  4s;  logical,  48; 
climax,   46 f.      Exercises,    81  t, 

20  1. 

Concrete  words.    See  Specific. 

Condensation,  39  ff.;  of  dialogue, 
60  £.;  in  drama,  268;  of  Style, 
384  ff. 

Conjunctions,  coordinate,  453f.j 
subordinate,  151  IT. ;  and  connec- 
tive phrases  in  transition.  177  f., 
289f.,  293ff.  Exercises,  309L, 
319  E. 

Consistency,  58  f. 

Construction  of  plot,  68  ff.  exer- 
cises, si;  f. 

Contents.  ^"  Material,  ( loherence, 
Unity. 

Contrast  in  description,  122  IT. ;  in 
exposition,    L82ff.,  3021 ;  In  the 


490 


COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 


paragraph,  303  ff . ;  in  words,  383. 
Exercises,  142,  207,  309  f.,  422, 426, 
431.    See  Antithesis. 

Conversation,  written,  in  stories, 
59  ff. ;  in  drama,  267  f . ;  character 
in,  59  f.,  267;  reporting  action, 
59 ff.;  condensed,  60  f.,  268;  ex- 
position in,  158;  dialect  in,  60; 
paragraphs  in,  278.  Exercises, 
85  ff.,  423. 

Cooper,  J.  F.,  82,  85. 

Coordination,  use  of,  319  ff. ;  should 
not  violate  unity,  311  ff. ;  monot- 
onous, 319  ff . ;  of  clauses,  453  f. 

Copiousness,  386. 

Correctness  in  words,  354  f .,  356  ff. ; 
general  and  specific  words,  369  f. ; 
technical  terms,  358  f. ;  in  syntax, 
311,  443  ff .    Exercises,  433  ff . 

Correspondence.  See  Letter-writ- 
ing. 

Couplets,  kinds  of,  476  ff. 

Cowper,  William,  36, 102  f .,  127, 281, 
304,  378,  384, 412.  Exercise,  135  f. 

Crisis  in  drama,  270  ff . 

Criticism,  literary,  193  ff. ;  types  of, 
197  ff. 

Dactyls  and  dactylic  verses,  471  f . ; 

hexameter,  471,  475  f. 
Dana,  R.  H.,  41,  73,  89,  91  f.,  101, 

106,  109,  128,  132.    Exercise,  143. 
Dante,  194. 
Darwin,  Charles,  315. 
Dash,  403,  465. 
Davis,  W.  M.,  145,  149  ff.,  160,  170, 

437  f.    Exercise,  437. 
DeFoe,  Daniel,  41,  49, 64 f.,  70,  75 f., 

290,  370.    Exercise,  424. 
De  Quincey,  Thomas,  120,  127,  386. 
Dehate,  243  ff. ;    subjects,  243  ff. ; 

262   ff.     Exercises,   262  ff.     See 

Briefs. 
Declarative  sentences,  effectiveness 

of,  316  ff .    Exercises,  341  ff . ,  434  ff . 


Definitions  of  terms,  160  f.,  173, 189, 
212  f.,  220,  222,  300  f.  Exercises, 
310,  422,  429  f.,  433. 

Demonstratives  in  transition,  286  ff. ; 
294  f.,  309. 

Denying  the  contrary,  300,  305,  399, 
431  f. 

Derivation,  361  f.  Exercises,  433, 
436. 

Description,  89  ff . ;  types  and  speci- 
mens of,  89  ff.,  96,  99  f.,  101  ff., 
106  ff.,  112  ff.,  116 ff.,  121  ff.,  125, 
127,  130  f.,  132  f.,  136,  142,  144, 
298  f.,  304  (no.  3),  350,  391  ff. ; 
distinguished  from  exposition, 
96  f.,  188  ff. ;  and  pictures,  97  ff., 
115,  134  f . ;  limitations  and  ad- 
vantages of,  97  ff . ;  outlines  and 
colors  in,  98  ff. ;  sensations  or 
sense-impressions  in,  52  ff .,  102  ff ., 
1351.,  152  ft'.;  action  in,  100  ff., 
135;  suggestive  phrasing  in,  53; 
combined  with  narrative,  52  ff .  ; 
introduction  in,  106  f.,  137;  unity 
of  impression,  112;  of  a  place  or 
scene,  107  f.,  137  f.,  139  f.,  143  f.; 
point  of  view  in,  108  ff.,  138  f. ; 
time  and  atmosphere  in,  112  ff., 
139  f.;  of  persons,  115  ff.,  140  f.; 
character  in,  58,  118 ff.;  contrast 
in,  120  f.,  142;  comparison  in, 
120  ff.,  142;  not  enumeration, 
124 ff.;  central  point  in,  126 ff.; 
vocabulary  in,  129  ff .  Exercises, 
134  ff.,  421  f.,  425  ff.,  431.  See 
Expository  description. 

Descriptive  words,  exercises  in, 
4.14  ff . 

Details,  selection  among,  39  ff. ; 
function  of,  39  ff . ,  64  f . ;  in  stories, 
39  ff .,  64  f . ;  in  description,  124  ff . ; 
in  paragraphs,  298  f .  <See  Obser- 
vation. 

Diagrams  in  exposition,  152  f.,  157, 
1S5.     Exercises,  206,  429  f . 


IXDKX 


491 


Dialect  words,  349,  353  f. ;  in  sto- 
ries, 60. 

Dialogue.  See  Conversation,  Drama. 

Dickens,  Charles,  9,  37,  50,  55,  63, 
70 ff.,  74ff.,  89,  92 ff.,  106,  111  BE., 
L19,  124,  126,  128,  195,  298,  364. 
Exercises,  79,  82,  85,  87 f.,  134  ff., 
140 1.,  143  f.,  421,  426,  431. 

Diction.  See  Oratorical,  Poetical, 
Figures,  Simplicity. 

Dictionary,  authority  of,  348;  study 
of.  389.    Exercises.  433  ff. 

Digests.     See  Abstracts. 

Dignity  of  style,  364  IT. 

Directness  and  emphasis,  316  ff . 

Discursiveness,  386. 

Dividing  the  subject,  220  f.,  305  f. 

Dobson,  Austin,  133. 

Double  rhyme,  473  f. 

Doyle,  Sir  A.  Conan,  49. 

Drama,  267  ff. ;  cf.  44,  62,  65,  77. 
See  Shakspere. 

Dramatic  condensation,  268. 

Dryden,  John,  132  f.,  194,  281,  288, 
363,  476,  481. 

Dufferin,  Lord,  132. 

Dynamic  description.  See  Descrip- 
tion. 

Ease,  assisted  by  transition,  28.")  ff., 
293  ff. 

Effect  and  cause.    See  Cause. 

Effects  in  description,  98  f.,  128; 
time  of  day,  weather,  etc.,  112  IT. 
See  Sense-impressions. 

Eliot,  George,  44,  50,  58,  60  !'..  66, 
75,  99ff.,  107 1.,  115,  1l8f.,  124, 
126,  12S,  142,  IS'.),  193,  2ST,  299, 
363.  Exercises,  82,  134,  139,  1 12  f., 
122,  126,  132. 

Emerson,  E.  W.,  8,  172,  176,  181, 
.",78. 

Emphasis,  in  narration,  in  IT. :  meth- 
ods of,  in  tlic  sentence,  326  ff. ;  in 
the  paragraph,  296f.,  386ff.;  of 


simple  sentences,  316ff.,  ■"•14;  in 
complex  sentences,  329;  of  a  se- 
ries, 318.  Exercises,  344.  See  An- 
tithesis, Climax. 

End-stopped  verses,  475. 

Enumeration  in  description,  128  I. 

Episodes,  in  stories,  56,  til  f. ;  in 
drama,  268  f. 

Epitome,  outline  presented  in  intro- 
duction, 172.  220  i. 

Equivalent  constructions,  •"•15,  157. 

Errors,  440  ff.,  443 ff. 

Essay,  structure  of.  See,  Arrange- 
ment, Outline,  Paragraph. 

Evidence,  228  If.,  236  IT. ;  direct  ami 
indirect  (circumstantial),  228  ff. ; 
antecedent  probability,  229  f. ; 
sign,  230  f. 

Examinations,  written,  186. 

Examples,  in  exposition,  ISO  IT.;  in 
argument,  242;  paragraphs  con- 
taining. 149  1'.,  I80f.,  239,  280f., 
301.  Exercises, 205, 207, 210, 261  I'., 
310,  431  f . 

Exciting  moment.   See  Moving. 

Exclamation  point,  460. 

I  Ixclamatory  sentences,  460. 

Exercises,  narration,  36,  78ff.,423f. ; 
description,  134  ff.,  125  f. ;  exposi- 
tion, 2(«)  IT.,  127  IT.;  exposition 
and  persuasion,  260  f, ;  argument 

and  persuasion,  261  IT.;  briefs, 
264  IT.;  paragraphs, 308 ff., 431  f. ; 
sentences,  341  IT.,  434  ff. ;  words, 
373ff.,  434  IT..  I  in  IT.;  figures  of 
speech,  373 ff.;  Bynonyms  and 
antonyms,  383f.,  436f.,  1 10  IT. ; 
letter-writing  and  business  trans- 
actions, 113  IT. 
Expansion  of  sentences  by  means  of 
modifiers,  321  IT.,  343  f. ;  of  topic 

sentence,  306  f. 

Explanal  ion.   S<  <  Exposition. 
Explanatory  description,  narrative. 
Set  Expository. 


492 


COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


Exposition,  145  ff. ;  specimens,  145- 
157,  161  ff.,  169  f.,  173  ff.,  177  f., 
181,  183  ff.,  189  ff.,  210,  279  ff., 
300  ff.,  386  f. ;  essentials  of,  159  ff. ; 
selection  of  subject,  159 ;  unity  in, 
159  11.;  arrangement  in,  163  ff. ; 
outline  of,  165  ff.,  200 ff.;  topics 
iu  notes  for,  165  ff . ;  key-sentence, 
170  f. ;  introduction,  172  ff.;  con- 
clusion, 174  ff . ;  transition,  177  ff. ; 
coherence,  179  f . ;  examples  in, 
180  ff . ;  comparison  and  contrast 
in,  182  ff. ;  use  of  diagrams,  185; 
written  tests,  186 ;  abstracts,  187 : 
exposition  of  character,  188  ff. ; 
summary  of  principles,  191  f. ;  in 
narratives  and  stories,  30  f. ;  dis- 
tinguished from  description,  'Mi., 
188  ff . ;  of  scientific  and  technical 
subjects,  151  ff .,  154  ff .,  162  f .,  167, 
183 ;  of  abstract  ideas,  184  f . ;  ex- 
position and  argument,  211  ff . ;  in 
drama,  270.  Exercises,  200  ff., 
260  f.,  421,  427  ff.,  431  f .,  437  f. 

Expository  or  circumstantial  de- 
scription, 96  i.,  160,  163,  188  ff. 
Exercises,  200  ff.,  207  ff.,  427  ff. 

Expository  narrative,  30, 48,  79, 174. 

Expressiveness,  356,  367  ff . ;  general 
and  specific  words,  369  f . ;  figures 
of  speech,  370  ff. ;  use  and  abuse 
of  figures,  380  ff . 

Extempore  speaking,  261. 

Extra  syllable  in  verse,  471  f . 

Extracts.    See  Selections. 

Fables,  74,  378.  See  JEsop.  Exer- 
cises, 78,  80,  82. 

Fact,  arguments  of,  227  ff. 

Fairy  tales,  11, 14ff.,74.  SeeGrimm. 

Feelings.    See  Sense-impressions. 

Feet  in  prosody,  469  ff . ;  kinds  of, 
470  ff. 

Feminine  rhyme,  473. 

Fiction,  73  ff . 


Figures.    See  Diagrams. 

Figures  of  similarity,  372  ff. 

Figures  of  speech,  349  f.,  370  ff.; 
simile  and  metaphor,  372  ff . ; 
metonymy,  376;  personification, 
376  ff . ;  allegory,  378  ff . ;  apostro- 
phe, 378;  alliteration,  486;  use 
and  abuse  of  figures,  380  ff . ; 
mixed  metaphors,  381  f.  Exer- 
cises, 373  f.,  4341,  438  f. 

First  person  in  narration,  49  f.,  58. 
Exercises,  78  ff.,  424. 

Florid  or  flowery  style,  350,  380. 

Force,  316  ff.,  326  ff.,  330  ff. 

Foreign  words  in  English,  351  f. 

Forms,  business,  466  ff.  See  Letter- 
writing. 

Forms  of  discourse,  1  ff. 

Franklin,  11  ff.,  35,  37,  39,  40,  42, 
315,  382.    Exercises,  88,  140,  341. 

Freedom  of  expression.  See  Variety. 

Frigidity,  380  f . 

Fuller,  Thomas,  303. 

Fundamental  image,  106. 

Future  tense,  errors  in,  446  f. 

Gaskell,  Mrs.,  43,  53,  66,  76,  133, 
287.    Exercises,  82,  87,  141. 

Gates,  L.  E.,  197. 

General  usage,  347. 

General  words.    See  Specific. 

Genitive,  444. 

Geographical  comparisons,  120  f. ; 
description,  183,  185,  429. 

Goldsmith,  Oliver,  11,  17  ff.,  34,  36, 
39,  61  ff.,  104,  128,  132,  183  f.,  287, 
296,  298,  300,  317,  336,  363,  371, 
374,  476,  479  f.  Exercises,  136, 
206,  434. 

Good  use.     See  Usage. 

Goss,  W.  F.  M.  G.,  145,  154  ff.,  171, 
178,  185.    Exercises,  209,  437. 

Gower,  John,  477. 

Grammar,  errors  in,  443  ff.  See 
Phrases,  Clauses,  Sentences. 


INDEX 


493 


Gray,  Thomas,  132, 374,  377,  47S,4S0. 

Green,  J.  K..  132 f. 

Grey,  Sir  George,  12,  27  ff.,  36,  73, 

14~i,   147  f.,  181,   282.    Exercises, 

2  H>.  309,  432,  434. 
Grimm,   William    and    James,   11, 

14  ff.,   37,    44,    46  f.,    59,   61,    64. 

Exercises,  86,  434. 

Hakluyt,  Richard,  132. 
Halleck,  Fitz-Greene,  80. 
Hawthorne,     Nathaniel,     33,     43, 

54  i.,  74  f.,  101  f.,  Ill,  131  i.,  193, 

287  f.,  298  f.,  314  f.,  378  f.,  391  ff. 

Exercises,  84,  421,  423,  424. 
Hazlitt,  William,  190  f.,  197  f .,  238  f. 
Herbert,  George,  480,  4s:>. 
Heroic  couplet,  470  f . 
Hexameter,  471  f.,  475  f. 
Historical  writing.  30,  51,  73. 
Holmes,  O.  W.,  140. 
Homeric  simile,  374. 
Homer's  Iliad  and  Odyssey,  31,  374. 
Hood,  Thomas,  336,  478,  485. 
Hough,  Professor,  162. 
Hudihrastic  couplet,  477. 
Hughes,  Thomas,  82. 
Hunt,  Leigh,  281. 
Huxley,  T.  H.,  96,  163,  173  f.,  290, 

296,  304. 
Hypermetrical  verse,  471  f . 
Hyphen,  466. 

Iambus  and  iambic  verses,  470  ff. 
Idioms,  388,  .".89. 

Impression.  See  Sense-impressions. 
Impressional  description,  102  ff. 
Improprieties  (with  exercises), 4  NUT. 
Incidents,  order  of ,  37;  selection  of, 

39  ff. ;    function   <>f,    55  I'.,    ii."»  11. 

Exercises,  86  f.    See  Sequence. 
Infinitives,  315,  r<7;  split  (or  cleft), 

450. 
Ingelow,  Jean,  36,  83. 
in  tances.    See  Examples. 


Interrelation  of  paragraphs  in  the 
—ay.  177  ff.,  285  ff. 

Interrogation  point,  460. 

Introduction,  functions  of:  presen- 
tation of  outline  in  epitome,  220  f.; 
statement  of  antecedent  or  acces- 
sory facts,  42  IT.,  106,  172.  219; 
conciliation  or  preparation  of 
audience,  172,  219,  236.  See 
Argument. 

Introductions  in  stories,  42  IT. : 
omitted,  44  f. ;  in  description, 
106  f.,  137;  in  exposition,  172  IT. ; 
in  argument,  212,  218ff.  Exer- 
cises, 801,  423  l'. 

Inverted  order,  327. 

Invitations  and  replies,  418  ff. 

Irving,  Washington, 47,  89  f.,  108  f.. 
115,  121,  123,  128,  132,  286  !'..  296, 
309,  412  f.     Exercises,  78,  81,  135. 

Issue.    See  Point  at  issue. 

It,  expletive,  152. 

Jebb,  R.  C,  133. 

Jewett,  Miss  S.  O.,  76,  82. 
Johnson,  Samuel,  117,  190,  194,  197, 
281,  337,  363. 

Junius,  229  f. 

Kane  E.  K.,  132. 
Keats,  John,  114  f.,  47:>  f..  184  f. 
Key-sentence,  170  f.    Exercises,  203. 
Kingsley,  Charles,  108  ff. 
Kingsley,  Miss  .Mary,  132. 
Kipling,  Rudyard,    17.  49,  53,  7."., 
132  £.    Exercises,  78,  82,  85. 

Lamb,  Charles,  289,  378,  H2. 

Landscape.    S<  e  Place. 

' i : i u ' ■ .  standard  of,  346  ff. ;  lit- 
erary, 346  ff.;  colloquial,  352  ff. 
See  Words. 

Lanier,  Sidnej .  80. 

Law,    principles    Of,    as   mailers   of 

argument,  226  f.,  232  f. 


494 


COMrOSITIOX  AND  RHETORIC 


Letter-writing,  401  ff. ;  kinds  and 
forms,  401  ff. ;  extracts  from, 
107,  127,  280  f.,  304  f.,  393  ff.; 
specimens,  408  ff . ;  parts  of  a 
letter,  402  ff . ;  business  letters, 
405  ff . ;  friendly  letters,  407  f . ; 
business  transactions,  414  ff . ;  in- 
vitations and  replies,  418  ff . ;  cir- 
cular letters,  415;  narration  in, 
35;  description  in,  107;  argu- 
ment and  persuasion  in,  260  ff. 
Exercises,  80,  88,  2G0  ff.,  204  f., 
413  ff. 

Lincoln,  Abraham,  237. 

Lincoln,  Joseph  C,  110  f. 

Lines  of  jjoetry.    See  Verses. 

Literary  criticism.    See  Criticism. 

Literature  aud  composition,  3f.,  32, 
73  ff . ;  classification  of,  4  ff . ;  his- 
tory, 30,  35,  73;  drama,  267  ff. ; 
materials,  63  ff . ;  plot,  65  ff .,  68  ff ., 
268  ff. ;  narration,  11  ff.,  73  ff. ; 
novels  and  romances,  73 ff.;  fa- 
bles, 74;  character  and  manners, 
75 ff.,  271  ff.;  biography,  35,  73, 
76  f . ;  art  and  literature,  97  ff., 
102  ff.,  126,  133,  197,  199;  criti- 
cism, 193  ff.,  197  ff. ;  prose  and 
poetry,  31 ;  allegory,  74, 315, 378  ff . 
See  Prose,  Poetry,  Selections. 

Liveliness  in  stories,  32  ff . ;  in  de- 
scription, 100  ff. ;  in  exposition, 
181  f . ;  in  argument,  242.  See 
Expressiveness,  Variety. 

Lockhart,  J.  G.,  76. 

Logical  conclusion,  48. 

Long,  W.  J.,  88,  173  f. 

Longfellow,  H.  W.,  36, 50, 132  f.,  195, 
475.  Exercises,  78,  82  f.,  86,  205, 
421. 

Loose  sentences,  323  ff . 

Lowell,  J.  R.,  141. 

Lubbock,  Sir  John,  145,  151  ff.,  171, 
178,  181,  185,  292,  296,  305  f .  Ex- 
ercise, 437. 


Macaulay,  Lord,  30,  36,  77,  117, 
175,  181,  194,  198,  229  f.,  233,  238, 
280,  283  f.,  285,  293  f.,-  296,  301, 
305  f.,  315,  316  ff.,  336  f.,  395  ff. 
Exercise,  310. 

Manners,  stories  of,  76 ;  comedy  of, 
273. 

Maps.    See  Diagrams. 

Marvel,  Ik,  370,  385  f . 

Masculine  rhyme,  473. 

Material.  See  Selection,  Arrange- 
ment, Details. 

Metaphor,  372  ff . ;  sustained,  374  f. ; 
combined  with  simile,  375;  use 
and  abuse  of,  380  ff. ;  mixed, 
381  f .     Exercises,  373  ff .,  438  f . 

Metonymy,  376. 

Metre,  469  ff . 

Milton,  John,  133,  194,  233,  285,  305, 
474 f.,  486. 

Mitchell.  D.  G.     See  Marvel. 

Mitford,  Miss,  89,  94  f.  Exercises, 
143  f.,  431,  435. 

Modern  usage,  347  ff. 

Modifiers,  321  ff . ;  as  aids  to  preci- 
sion, 362 ;  position  of,  326  ff .,  4-19 ; 
phrases  and  clauses,  451  ff.  Exer- 
cises, 341  ff.,  434  ff. 

Monotony,  313. 

Morgan,  Lloyd,  161  f. 

Morley,  John,  214  f . 

Movement.     See  Action. 

Moving  cause  in  drama,  270. 

Nansen,  F.,  73,  132. 

Narration,  11  ff. ;  types  and  speci- 
mens of,  11  ff.,  33  f.,  36,  38,  45  f., 
73  ff.,  174,  297  f.;  in  verse,  20  f., 
31,  36;  outline  in,  35,  78 ;  point  in, 
36  ff. ;  climax  in,  37  ff . ;  suspense 
in,  37 ;  selection  in,  39  ff . ;  intro- 
duction in,  42  ff . ;  conclusion  in, 
46  ff. ;  point  of  view  in,  49  ff. ; 
first  or  third  person  in,  49  ff. ;  set- 
ting   in,    52  ff . ;    description    in, 


INDEX 


495 


52  ff. ;  characterization  in,  56  ff . ; 
conversation  in,  51)  IT. :  material 
for,  63  ff. ;  incident  in,  65 ff. :  plot 
in,  68  ff. ;  narration  in  litera- 
ture, 73  ff. ;  narration  and  drama, 
267  ff.  Exercises,  78  ff.,  421  f., 
423  ff . 

Nervous  style,  384. 

Newman,  J.  H.,  9, 181,  189, 290, 319, 
336,  340,  399  f. 

Nominative  absolute,  315. 

Notes,  making,  165 ff.,  188. 

Novels,  58,  64,  65  ff.,  73  ff . ;  plot  of, 
68  ff.  See  Dickens,  Eliot,  Gold- 
smith, Scott,  Thackeray,  etc. 

Number,  errors  in,  444,  448  f. 

Observation  of  details,  107, 116  f., 
124  1,  128  f.  Exercises,  78ff., 
134 ff.,  423  ff.,  427  f. 

Odor  in  descriptions,  99,  103  f. 

Omniscient  point  of  view,  50  f.,  58, 
111  f. 

Only,  place  of,  449  f. 

Oral  composition,  outlines  and 
exercises  for,  78  ff.,  134  ff.,  200  ff., 
261  ff.,  425,  429  f.,  4331,  136  f., 
438  f.,  44Lf. 

Oratorical  style,  365  f. 

Order.    .See  Arrangement,  Time. 

Order  of  words,  326  ff .  Exercises, 
341  ff.,  344. 

Outline  in  epitome,  introduction, 
172,  220  1'.;  relation  of  topic  sen- 
tences to  outline,  168,  283.  See 
Outlines. 

Outlines,  of  story,  78;  of  plot, 
fi'.i  ff.,  87  f . ;  in  exposition, 
165 ff.;  notes  for,  165  IT.;  topics, 
L65  ff.;  key-sentence,  170  f. ; 
specimens,  7s.  87  f.,  L69f.,  t27  ff. 
Exercises  in  preparing  and  writ- 
ing or  speaking  from,  78  ff.,  87  f., 
2ooff.,  308  i.,  ii'7  f.,  430  ir.  See 
Uriels. 


Fainting.    See  Pictures. 
Paragraphs,     277    ff.;    specimens, 
279ff.,  292 f.,  295 f.,  297-307  (with 

cross-references);  unity,  278  ff., 
283;  indentation,  277;  conversa- 
tion, 278;  topic  phrase  or  sen- 
tence, 27*  if. ;  beginning,  283  f., 
286 ff.;  close.  284  ff.,286ff.,317f.; 
transition.  177  ff..  285  II..  293ff.; 
coherence,  285  ff. :  arrangement  of 
sentences,  283 ff.,  296 f. ;  emphasis, 
296  f. ;  climax,  296  f.:  variety, 
2:17  ff.    Exercises,  308 ff..  431  I. 

Paragraphs,  forms  or  types  of,  297  IT. 
(with  cross-references) ;  series  of 
incidents,  297  f.:  accumulating  de- 
tails, 298  f. :  defining  terms, ; 300  f. ; 
containing  examples,  303 :  con- 
taining proposition  and  proof, 
302  f.;  refuting,  303;  cause  and 
effect,  303:  giving  reasons,  303; 
comparison  or  contrast,  303  ff.; 
denying  the  contrary,  305;  divid- 
ing the  subject,  305 f. ;  summing 
up,  306;  developing  or  expanding 
topic  sentence,  306  f.;  repetition, 
297 ff.;  climax.  2961 

Parallel  structure,  530  ff.,  3361 

Parenthesis,  163,  465. 

Parkman,  Francis,  53,  132,  286  f. 

Participial  phrases,  1 18,  151. 

Participles,  faulty  use  of,  n<s- 

Particles  of  transition,  177.  289  IT., 
293  f.    Exercises,  3091 

Partition  of  topic  sentence,  305  t. 

Pater,  Walter,  197. 

Pauses    in    speech,    3401,   4i;off.; 

vers,..  469,   17:;,   175. 
Period,  460. 

Periodic  sentences,  323  ff. 

Person.   Nee  First,  Third. 

Personification,  376  ff. 

Persons,  description  of,  115  ff.,  122 
1231,  126,  128,  133,  L40ff.;  speci- 
mens,   101  l..    106,    lb;  ff.,    L20, 


496 


COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 


122  f .,  133.  Exercises,  140 ff .,  143, 
425  f.,  431. 

Perspicuity.  See  Clearness,  Ar- 
rangement. 

Persuasion,  241  ff .    Exercises,  261  ff . 

Phrases,  equivalence  of,  315 ;  tran- 
sitional, 289 1.,  293  ff.;  phrases 
classified,  451  ff. 

Pictures,  and  descriptions,  97  ff., 
112,  115,  134  f.;  description  of, 
133,  134  f.     See  Diagrams. 

Picturesque  words,  53, 102  ff.,  129  ff. 

Place  or  scene,  description  of,  107  ff ., 
112  ff.,  120  ff.,  126  ff.,  132,  137  ff., 
142  ff.,  194  ff. ;  time  in,  112  ff. ; 
specimens,  54,  89-95,  96,  99 i., 
102  ff.,  108  ff.,  112  ff.,  121  f.,  130  f., 
132, 144.  Exercises,  134  ff .,  137  ff., 
421,  425  f. 

Plan.     See  Outline. 

Plays.     See  Drama. 

Pleonasm,  388. 

Plot,  study  of,  65  ff. ;  complication 
of,  68  ff.;  in  drama,  268  ff.  Ex- 
ercises, 86  ff.,  424. 

Poe,  E.  A.,  479. 

Poetical  words,  etc.,  31,  61,  102 ff., 
132,  349  f .     See  Figures. 

Poetry,  study  of.    See  Selections. 

Point  at  issue,  212  ff.,  220,  222. 

Point  of  a  story,  36  ff.,  42,  47 ;  lead- 
ing up  to,  37  ff. ;  and  conclusion, 
46ff. 

Point  of  view  in  description,  near, 
far,  above,  below,  etc.,  108  ff. 
Exercises,  138  ff.,  425  f. 

Point  of  view  in  stories,  49  ff .  Ex- 
ercises, 82  ff.,  423  f. 

Policy,  argument  of,  227,  233  ff., 
241  ff. 

Pompous  words,  349,  380  f . 

Pope,  Alexander,  194,  281,  476, 
482. 

Portrait,  description  of,  115  ff.,  133, 
140. 


Position  of  modifiers,  326  ff . 

Position  of  words,  etc.,  for  emphasis, 
and  variety,  326  ff . ;  variations 
from  natural  order,  326  ff . ;  in- 
version, 327  f.  See  Antithesis, 
Climax,  Parallel  structure,  Peri- 
odic. 

Possessive,  444. 

Precision,  359  ff. ;  general  and  spe- 
cific words,  369  ff.  Exercises, 
433 ff.,  440  ff. 

Present  tense  in  description,  94  f., 
143. 

Principle,  argument  of.  See  The- 
ory. 

Probability  in  argument,  228  ff. ; 
antecedent,  228  ff. 

Pronouns,  in  transition,  286  ff., 
294  f .,  309 ;  errors  in  case  of,  444  f . ; 
in  number,  444 ;  ambiguous,  449 ; 
relatives,  use  and  abuse  of,  326, 
445. 

Proof,  225,  227  ff.,  232,  236  ff. 

Proposition  in  argument,  212  f., 
21  s,  220.    See  Briefs. 

Propriety,  363. 

Prose  extracts,  study  of.  See  Selec- 
tions. 

Prosody,  469  ff. 

Provincialisms,  60,  349,  353  f. 

Psychological  novels,  58,  66. 

Punctuation,  use  of,  340  f . ;  rules  of, 
460  ff. 

Purity  of  style,  349,  351  ff . 

Quantity  in  verse,  469. 
Quatrains,  481. 
Question  marks,  460. 
Questions.     See  Rhetorical. 
Quotation  marks,  460. 

Read,  T.  B.,  36,  80. 
Realism,  64  f. 

Recitations,  how  to  prepare,  158  f. ; 
exposition  in,  158  f. 


INDEX 


497 


Redundancy,  388. 

Refutation.  237  ff. 

Relatives,  chains  of,  326 ;  errors  in 
the  use  of,  445. 

Repetition,  386  ff . ;  for  clearness  or 
emphasis,  386  ff . ;  in  expository 
writing,  387  f . ;  paragraph  con- 
structed hy  repetition  of  topic 
sentence,  307,  387  f. ;  tautology, 
388;  redundancy,  388. 

Reporters,  6.">,  83  f. 

Reports,  of  lecture  or  address, 
187  ff. 

Resemhlance.    See  Comparison. 

Resolution  in  stories,  48. 

Reynolds,  Sir  Joshua,  117,  184,  376. 

Rhetoric,  1.     See  Composition. 

Rhetorical  questions,  338  ff . 

Rhyme,  473  ff. 

Rhythm,  470  ff. 

Richardson,  Samuel,  116,  118, 133. 

Riis,  J.  A.,  13  f.  Exercises,  81,  85, 
436. 

Roherts,  Lord,  73. 

Romance,  31,  68  ff. 

Run-on  verses,  475. 

Raskin,  John,  7,  176,  278  f.,  290, 
292  f. 

Sackville,  Thomas,  17."). 
Scanning  or  scansion.  470  ff. 
Scene  in  stories,,  42  ff.,  52 ff.,  65 f. 

See  Place. 
Scientific    subject,    exposition    of, 

151  ff.,    154  ff.,    162  L,    167,    L83  ; 

description,  96  f.,  163,  427  ff. 
Scientific  theory,  226,  231  f.,  238. 
Scott,  Sir  Waller,  20  f.,  22  ff.,  30, 

35, 37, 40, 43, 48,  57,  60  I'.,  63,  65  ff., 

77,  110,  125,  128,  132  f.,  L95,   177. 

Exercises,  80,  85,  86,  87  f..  135, 137, 

308  f.,  341,  343  f.,  123,  426,  434. 
Sedgwick,  W.  T..  162. 
Selection   of   material,   39  ff .  ;    in 

stories,    39   If.;     in    description, 


102ff.,107,  116f.,  124  f.  :  in  expo- 
sition, 159,  165  ff.;  in  argument, 
216  ff. 

Selections,  prose.ll  ff.,  22ff.,33f.,38, 
41,45f.,  53,  54,58,  89 ff.,  96,  99  t., 
101  f.,  106,  108  ff.,  112  ff.,  110  If., 
119  f.,  121  ff.,  125,  1-7,  130  1'.. 
132  f.,  135  f.,  142,  115-157,  161  ff., 
173 ff.,  176,  isi,  [S3ff.,189ff.,210, 
215,  225,  236,  239,  279  IT.,  2*4  f., 
286  ff .,  289  ff.,  292  f.,  295  !'.,  297  ff ., 
300-307,  316  ff.,  324  ff.,  331,  332  f., 
334,  336 f.,  338  f.,  340,  343  f.,  365  f., 
369, 371, 375  ff.,  379 ff.,  384  f.,386  f., 
391-400,  412  f.,  428,  435,  437  f. ; 
poetry,  20  f.,  36,  53, 102  ff.,  132  f., 
136,  142,  330,  335,  336,  338,  349  f., 
364,  373  ff.,  376  ff.,  382,  387,  472, 
474-486. 

Semicolon,  464. 

Sense-impressions  in  description, 
102 ff.,  129  if..  135  f. 

Sentences, . "11  IT.;  smoothness,  313; 
unity,  311  ff. ;  coherence,  313; 
transition,  293  ff. ;  variety,  313  ff. ; 
kinds  of,  316,  453  ff. ;  simple  de- 
clarative, use  of,  316  ff. ;  abuse  of, 
318;  compound,  use  of,  319,  154; 
abuse  of,  319  ff. :  complex,  321  ff., 
454  ff. :  periodic  and  loose, .".'_'.".  IT.  : 
emphasis  in,  326  IT.;  chains  of 
relatives,  326;  antithesis.  330  f. ; 
balance,  332  ff.;  climax,  334  ff.; 
parallel  structure,  330  ff.,  •">■"'»'>  f.  ■ 
rhetorical  questions,  338  f.;  punc- 
tuation, 340  f.  Exercises,  Ml  IT., 
434  IT.  See  Key-sentence,  Topic 
sentence. 

Sequence  of  thought,  8  f. ;  in  para- 
graphs, 285 ff.;  of  time  or  action, 
35  l..  11  l.,  11,  68 ff.,  267  I. 

Seton,  E.  T., 

Setting  in  stories,  13,  46,  62ff.,  ."'7, 

62, 65ff. ;  in  drama,  02,  270.  Exer- 
cises,  84  l.,  123 f. 


498 


COMPOSITION  AND  RHETORIC 


Shakspere,  32,  44,    56  f.,    62,    77, 
104,  132,  190  f.,  267  ff.,  302  1.,  338, 
373  ff.,    378,   382,    387,   472,    475, 
482,  486.    Exercises,  81,  309,  421, 
424,  439. 
Shaler,  N.  S.,  183. 
Shall  and  will,  446  f. 
Shelley,  Mrs.,  184  f. 
Shelley,  P.  B.,  38,  47,  132,  477. 
Sign,  argument  from,  229  f . 
Sign.     See  Evidence. 
Similarity,  figures  of,  372  ff . 
Simile  and  metaphor,  372  ff . ;  sus- 
tained,   374  f. ;     combined    with 
metaphor,  375.    Exercises,  373  1, 
434,  438  f . 
Simple  sentences,  use  and  effective- 
ness  of,   316  ff.;    series   of,   318; 
abuse  of,  318.    Exercises,  341  ff. 
Simplicity,  364  f. 
Sketches.     See  Diagrams. 
Slang,  349,  353,  438. 
Smell.    See  Odor. 
Smoothness,  helped  by  transition, 

285ff.,293ff. 
Solecisms,  443  ff. 
Sonnet,  105,  485  f . 
Sonorous  words,  365  f. 
Sound  indescriptions,52ff.,99,102ff. 
Southey,  Robert,  36,  80. 
Special  issue.    See  Point. 
Specific    and    general    words,    7, 

3571,  359  ff.,  369  f. 
Spenser,  Edmund,  132,  379,  484. 
Spenserian  stanza,  484. 
Spondee,  471,  476,  479. 
Stanley,  H.  M.,  73,  132. 
Stanza,  forms  of,  479  ff. 
Stevenson,  R.  L.,  49,  53,  69  f.,  75, 
121  f.,    130  f.,   133,  197,  299,  315, 
337,  341.    Exercise,  88. 
Stilted  style,  333. 

Style,  differences  of,  349  ff.,  363 ff. ; 
poetical,  349  f.;  florid,  350,  380; 


colloquial,  352  ff. ;  simple,  364  f.; 

oratorical,   365  f . ;    nervous,   384 ; 

pointed,  333;   stilted,  333;  terse, 

385 ;  leisurely,  385. 
Subject  of  a  composition,  6  ff.,  159; 

specimen  subjects,  7  f.,  159,  421  ff. 

See  Argument,  Exercises. 
Subject  of  a  sentence,  agreement  of, 

448  f . ;  use  of  it,  452. 
Suggestion  in  words,  52  f.,  102  ff., 

368  ff. 
Summaries  or  abstracts,  187.     See 

Outlines. 
Summary  in  conclusion,  306. 
Suspended    sentences.     See    Peri- 
odic. 
Suspense,  37,  73,  273. 
Swift,  Jonathan,  43,  49,  G4, 133,  287, 

293,  298,  315. 
Sylvester,  Joshua,  380  f . 
Syuonyms    and    antonyms,    382  ff . 

Exercises,  383  f.,  434  ff.,  440  ff. 
Syntax,  451  ff. ;  errors  in,  443  ff. 

Tautology,  388. 

Technical  terms,  349,  358  f .  Exer- 
cises, 437  f . 

Telegrams,  80,  406. 

Tennyson,  Lord,  31,  36,  37,  42,  132, 
349  f.,  475,  478  f.,  482.  Exercises, 
79, 135,  421,  426. 

Tense.     See  Present  tense. 

Terseness,  385. 

Testimony.    See  Evidence. 

Tests,  186. 

Thackeray,  W.  M.,  49  f.,  125,  285  f., 
289,  296,  307,  318,  324  f .,  369.  Ex- 
ercise, 424. 

Thanet,  Octave,  76. 

Theory,  argument  of,  226  f.,  231  ff., 
238  f. 

Third  person  in  narration,  49  ff. ;  in 
invitations,  418  f . 

Thomson,  James,  133,  475,  484. 


tNDEX 


499 


Thoreau,  H.  D.,  54,  88,  428.  Exer- 
cise, 428. 

Time,  order  of,  in  stories,  35  f..  68  ff. ; 
in  drama.  267  f. ;  element  of,  in 
descriptions,  112  ff.  See  Present 
tense. 

Titles.    See  Subject. 

Topic  phrase  or  sentence,  168, 278  ff ., 
282  f. ;  topic  sentences  of  para- 
graphs corresponding  to  divisions 
of  plan,  283,  308;  paragraph, 
developing  or  repeating,  306  f. 
Exercises,  308,  310,  431  f.  See 
Paragraphs. 

Tragedy,  269  ff . 

Transactions.    See  Business. 

Transition,  in  description,  101;  in 
exposition,  177  ff. ;  in  argument, 
223  ff . ;  in  paragraphs,  285  ff. ;  in 
sentences,  293  ff.;  means  of, 
286  ff.,  293  ff . ;  particles  of,  289  ff. 
Exercises,  308  ff. 

Translation,  use  of,  389. 

Trelawny,  E.  J.,  38,  47. 

Trevelyan,  G.  O.,  77,  315. 

Triple  rhyme,  474. 

Trochees  and  trochaic  verses, 
470  ff. 

Trollope,  Anthony,  61. 

Tropes,  371. 

Turning-point  in  drama,  270  ff. 

T\  pes  of  the  paragraph,  297  IT. ;  of 
phrases,  clauses,  and  sentences, 
4.-1  ff. 

Typical  characters,  188  ff.  Exer- 
cises, 207,  310,  422. 

Underplot,  269. 

Unity,  in   description,  111;   in  ex- 
position,   159 f.;    of  paragraphs, 
L'7s  IT.;  of  senfa  nces,311  ff.   Exer- 
s,  308  ff.,  341  ff. 

tandard  of,  346  ff.;   variety 
in,     348  f.;      authority,     346  ff.; 


words  not  in  good  use,  349  ff. ; 
poetical  usage,  349  f. ;  colloquial, 
352 ff.;     provincial,    353  f.      See 

Words. 

Van  Dyke,  Henry,  14.">f.,  164f., 
182.    Exercise,  309. 

Variety,  124,  129  IT. ;  of  sentences, 
313  ff.;  why  needed,  313  ff . ;  kinds 
of  sentences,  316  ff. ;  antithesis, 
330 f. ;  balance,  332 ff.;  climax, 
334ff.;  parallel  structure,  336f.; 
periodic  and  loose  structure, 
323  ff. :  rhetorical  questions,  338  t. 
Exercises,  341ff.,  434  ff.  See 
Phrases,  Clauses,  Synonyms. 

Veitch,  John,  306. 

Verb  phrases,  440  f.,  451. 

Verbosity,  384  ff . 

Verbs  in  narration,  33;  errors  in 
verbs,  446  ff. 

Verse,  469  ff . ;  kinds  of,  472  ff . 

Vividness,  369  f. ;  enhanced  by  fig- 
ures, 370  ff . 

Vocabulary,  means  of  increasing, 
389  f.  See  Words,  Synonyms, 
Antonyms. 

AValpole,  Horace,  133. 

Washington,  9. 

Weather  in  descriptions.  See  At- 
mosphere 

Webster,  Daniel.  L29,  339,  365 f. 

Weyman,  Stanley,  112.  Exercise, 
140. 

White,  Gilbert,  210. 

Whittier,  J.  G.,  36,  50,  478.  Exer- 
cises, 82,421. 

Wilkins,    -Miss   Mary  E.,  45  T.,   76. 

Exercise,  82. 
Will.    See  Shall. 

Word-,,  choice  and  use  of,  99  f..  12<>, 

129  ff.,   345  IT. ;    picturesque, 
102  IT.,  129  IT.;  standard  of  ua 


500 


COMPOSITION  AND   RHETORIC 


346  ff. ;  authority,  346  ff.;  words 
not  in  good  use,  349;  poetical 
language,  349  f . ;  foreign  words, 
351  f. ;  barbarisms,  351  f. ;  collo- 
quialisms and  slang,  352  ff. ;  pro- 
vincial and  dialect  words,  353  f . ; 
general  principles  of  choice, 
354  ff. ;  correctness,  356  ff. ;  tech- 
nical terms,  358  f.;  precision, 
359  ff . ;  derivation,  361  f . ;  appro- 
priateness, 363  ff.  ;  expressiveness, 


367  ff. ;  associations  of,  368  f . ; 
general  and  specific,  369  f.  Exer- 
cises, 433  ff.,  440  ff.  See  Syno- 
nyms, Antonyms,  Figures,  Con- 
ciseness, Vocabulary. 

Wordsworth,  36  f.,  82,  85,  105,  108, 
115,  132  f.,  475,  477,  483. 

Written  conversation,  how  para- 
graphed, 278. 

Young,  Edward,  475. 


JAf 


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Form  L 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


mm 

FEB«2  4 1982 

MAY  I 7  1382. 


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B«  .. 


